


Summer Smutmas 2017 Collection

by PineWreaths



Series: The Mabel Spectrum [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gravity Scars AU, M/M, Reverse Falls AU, pinecest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-16 12:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11828487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineWreaths/pseuds/PineWreaths
Summary: A collection of various smutty prompt-based stories, in no particular order.





	1. The Party Spectrum

“You honestly thought I wouldn’t notice? Kids, listen, I’m honored that you’d even try, but, c’mon, really?”

Grunkle Stan looked up, and rolled his eyes. “All right, the rest of you can come out. I know you’re there, and I don’t want the, uh, yellow one-”

“May” Dipper quickly supplied, and beside him Mare nodded. Their Grunkle just sighed.

“Fine, May then, I don’t want her getting stuck under the sink there. Soos once tried to clean underneath that and we had to get some industrial solvent to free him from a grease trap he got his hand stuck in.” May had started sheepishly backing out as soon as Stan had identified her hiding spot, but her eyes went wide in fear when he mentioned the solvent, and Optimus on her shoulder gave a brief peep of avian alarm as well.

“Uh, yeah, Grunkle Stan, looks like no solvent is needed after all!” Dipper said with false cheerfulness, his heart racing a little as well at the thought of his sister getting her hand melted. He then cupped his hands to his mouth.

“Alright, Mare, Belle, Meg, BB, Marian, and Mabel, you can come out now!” Slowly his sisters emerged from various hiding spots in cupboards of the kitchen, in the gift shop’s shirt racks, and even in the fish tank in the living room. Stan stifled a brief yell of alarm when Meg opened her eyes and began to move; she had managed to duplicate the pattern of the wallpaper and flooring almost perfectly on her skin, and was within arm’s reach of their Grunkle when the camouflage effect was broken. Even still, it was slightly unnerving to see what looked like a living wall chunk grinning and speaking.

“Hey Grunkle Stan!” Her tone turned mischievous. “So you didn’t  _really_ see  _all_ of us, did you?”

Stan just snorted. “Aw, don’t kid yourself. I honed my ability to see through disguises and clever paintjobs back when I was in Guatemala helping, uh-”

“Helping do what, Grunkle Stan?”

He stared in annoyance at Dipper, before taking a step and interjecting himself between Dipper and the coat rack that had a small, empty dog collar on a leash hanging from it. “Never you mind ‘what’.”

He looked up at the assemblage of Mabels, each in a different color sweater and skirt or pants.

“Criminy, where do you even all sleep?”

 

* * *

 

That had been three weeks ago; they only had one more before the end of the summer, but already the “Pines Sister Apartments,” as Stan had dubbed them, were essentially complete.

After a brief and incredulous discussion with Grunkle Ford over the phone, the photocopier was unplugged and Grunkle Stan had ensured it remained unused with a padlock over the scanning lid. Their other Grunkle, despite being busy in Egypt looking for something he called “the Podium,” was adamant that his office was not to be used as a boarding house any longer than absolutely necessary.

So instead, the octuplets (Dipper was still getting used to the term) and Stan, with the help of Soos when he wasn’t busy helping Melody with packing their house, had constructed the “apartments”. Their Grunkle had concurred with Ford that replication was probably not completely legal, to say nothing of the headache involved in trying to steal new social security numbers for each of the new sisters.

As a result, they had kept the true purpose of the apartments hidden from Soos. As Dipper passed him in the empty gift shop, he noticed Dipper was heading for the elevator.

“Aw jeez, it’s a shame Mister Pines had all them, uh, beavers infestations. Those little cave bungalows were a great business idea.”

Dipper gave him a sheepish grin; in truth, only one bungalow could be considered “infested” with beavers, and May had an impressive bird collection in her room as well. The destruction of the totem pole out front after Weirdmageddon had led to a gaping hole towards the sky, and her avian friends would come and go from there. He had asked her to try and only have them come and go at night, dawn, or dusk, to avoid being seen easily; still, enough had been seen one afternoon that a curious tourist began snapping photographs and trying to see where the birds were coming from.

A beaver sent up in a  _particularly_  bitey mood had soon killed that curiosity, but it had been a near thing. As the elevator doors opened, Dipper could see the impromptu plywood door that was latched shut over the bottom of the hole, and a few of the birds perched impatiently nearby.

“Hey Mabels, I’m ho-ome!” he shouted. However, instead of the normal cacophony of yells and greetings back, the cavern was oddly silent. The ruins of the portal had been drug off to a heap to one side; in it’s place, a sort of patio had been made with paving stones and strung bulb lights on posts, zigzagging across the entire interior. The lighting for each of the six entrances was a pair of electric lanterns, although Meg had added her normal flair of color to them by putting some vibrant spherical Chinese lanterns over hers, and he could tell from the whitish tinge that BB had replaced her lights with LEDs instead of incandescents.

There was a small wood box over on one of the picnic tables on the patio as Dipper approached, and he could see that as he got closer, all of the interior lights for the bungalows were dark.

All save one.

Dipper approached, box tucked under his arm, but as he got to the wooden steps up to the apparently-occupied bungalow, there was a set of giggles from within, and an imperious voice commanding him to halt.

“You have not opened the Box!” the voice accused. Dipper grinned a little, and cracked open the box. Inside was a pair of rainbow-striped boxers, made of some sort of synthetic silk, and a quartet of fuzzy handcuffs, also rainbow-striped.

 _I think they went with my plan after all._ The girls had been fretting over how to pick who was going to be going home to Piedmont after the end of summer. Dipper had merely nudged the selection process with a few private suggestions to Belle, Mabel, and BB;  _looks like their suggestions swayed the others as well._

Dipper looked up at the closed bungalow door, and caught a glimpse of movement near one of the corners of the pair of windows, blinds drawn. He raised an eyebrow.

“P-put them on!” commanded the voice, a slight sputter of a giggle breaking the intensity, as another wave of muted giggles came from within. He shrugged, and took a pair of steps away from the bungalow and towards the shared bathroom by the elevator, when the voice spoke again.

“Where are you going? Just change here.” Dipper could almost see the expression of forced nonchalance on his sisters’ faces, but he shot a look towards the elevator.

“Stan knows about you all, but he doesn’t know about, um, well-” He nodded his head towards them in as meaningful of a way as he could, but the reply was reassuring and dismissive.

“Soos is taking care of the new baby, and Stan has the bowling semifinal tonight. Besides, I sent Flapjack to guard the door upstairs anyways.”

 _Well, I guess that answers who’s got nominated to be the mysterious speaker then._ Flapjack the beaver was no slouch, and May had him trained surprisingly well; now it was only  _slightly_  terrifying to have him eat directly out of your hand.

Shrugging, Dipper then proceeded to give the bungalow door the most sultry smolder he could muster, as he slowly began to unbutton his shirt. There was a chorus of appreciative ‘ _ooh’s_ from inside, and he could see multiple sets of eyeballs peeking at window corners or through the mail slot.

He then slowly pulled off the shirt, and unbuckled his leather belt, sliding it out with sudden force at the end to create a whipcrack sound. The second chorus of notably-more-aroused ‘ _ooh’s_ was worth the slight pain of whipping his own hand on accident, and he then unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them down with exaggerated slowness.

Finally, he hooked his thumbs into his own plaid boxers and lazily worked them down as well. His erection sprang free, only to be covered a minute later as he discarded the old boxers to his pile of clothes, and began pulling the rainbow boxers back up in the opposite direction. Slipping them over the end of his cock while simultaneously keeping the tip visible for as long as possible, his shaft was finally hidden from view.

That only left the handcuffs.

“Um…” he said.

“Those too,” came May’s reply. “One per limb.”

Dipper shrugged again, exaggerating the movement to accentuate his slight muscle tone.

_Not part of the original plan, but not unwelcome either._

There was at least one audible and appreciative ‘hmm’ heard from within, and he latched a handcuff set around each of his hands and ankles, leaving the other halves to dangle free.

He was about to say “Now what?” when the door opened within, revealing an empty short hallway. He stepped over the threshold, only for the door to slam shut behind him and for more than a dozen hands to grab him and pull him down the hallway towards the bedroom.

Each of the bungalows had a small living room, big enough to fit a chair and a desk or fireplace, depending on the whims of the occupant during construction. Grunkle Stan had even ran the chimneys up to feed into the one in the Mystery Shack, and had mentioned offhand the idea of selling tickets to see the “Mysterious Fireless Chimney,” until Soos had mentioned that someone would probably more realistically think it was a chimney fire and call the fire department.

On the other side of the hallways were a pair of small closets, but at the end of the hallways were the bedroom, and this was where Dipper was bodily yanked into approximately two seconds after entering the dwelling in the first place.

Judging from the strings of orange bachelorette penis-lights over the mirror on one side, the purposefully-angled padded wedge furniture on the other side, and the genuinely impressive collection of dildos along the shelf above the bed headboard, this was clearly Belle’s bungalow. He caught a brief glimpse of his sisters arrayed across the room, but was quickly drug to the bed and laid flat out on his back. Nylon webbing straps came up from nowhere under the bed and were quickly threaded through the empty cuffs, and pulled until gently taut, leaving Dipper spread-eagle on the bed, his erection at attention like a flagpole on a parade field.

Leaning his head up, he could see as his sisters stepped back that each of them had a black sheer mesh lingerie, each trimmed by a rainbow-pattern frill along the waist and outer edge of the tiny bra. They were all dressed identically, but Dipper could see that each had a different shade of lipstick on, the same shades as when Mabel had first surprised him with his new siblings almost two wonderful months ago.

Purple-lipsticked Mabel stepped forward, his original sister, and with her stepped up Marian in her deep blue-indigo, almost purple lipstick.

“Alrighty, brobro. So, we know we still haven’t picked out yet which among us is going home with you until Thanksgiving.” Dipper immediately felt a pang of guilt; he hated picking just one sibling, and his sisters hated not being able to see him on a regular basis, but they had all agreed the risks were exponentially higher if they all tried to hide in or near Piedmont. After all, one or two incidents of seeing Mabel far more frequently than someone might expect could be explained away, as they had here in Gravity Falls, but in such a large city the chances shot up to more than any of them thought safe.

“Still,” Marian continued, “We need to pick a… _winner_ , you could say.” She grinned, and several of her sisters did so as well.

“So, a simple competition: We each give you the most amazing blowjob we can, and whoever has their lipstick the lowest on your Little Dipper wins.” At this, her eyes slid away from Dipper’s eyes and down his chest towards his tented boxers. He saw her lick her lips slightly as Mabel continued where Marian left off.

“Of course, we sorta-kinda-maybe tried to do something like that last time, informally, and it didn’t work so hot. So, some ground rules:” From the way she was telling it, it was clear the explanation was for Dipper’s benefit as most of his sisters seemed itching to get on with the festivities.

“One: No eliminating someone else’s marks on subject one, the Penis.” The faux formality here had almost everyone giggling, and even Dipper snorted a little as Mabel barely kept from breaking into giggles herself.

“And Two: The Subject must be blowjobbed to completion. No blueballs tonight here, ladies!” As Dipper stared in shocked confusion, she shrugged. “And that’s it! Simple, huh?”

He just glanced around nervously. “Uh, Mabes, that’s great and all, but, um, seven times? I feel like I got put through a juice press the morning after I come three times, and that’s usually my limit.” There was a brief glance around from BB as she silently mouthed ‘Three times?’, met eyes with Belle, and blushed as Belle nodded and gave her a saucy wink.

Mabel just grinned and Marian reached down to pull something off of the chair in front of her. As she lifted it, Dipper could see it was a bottle of pills.

“What, Grunkle Stan’s old  _viagra_?” Dipper snorted in disbelief. “Maybe that might help for one round, but we’re talking-”

“Dipper.” Marian’s voice cut through his dismissal, and she leaned in with bottle still clutched between two fingers. “These are Grunkle  _Ford’s_ pills. He left them in his desk, and even Grunkle Stan didn’t dare touch them.”

She straightened, and smiled mischievously. “Well, not  _twice_ anyways. Still, from what he told us, one of these will definitely do the trick. Just avoid magnets and shellfish for the next 48 hours.” She temporarily uncuffed one of his hands, handing him a single pill and a glass of water he wolfed down in quick succession. The pill looked more to be the size meant for equine veterinary medicine and had an odd swirling pattern within, but went down easily enough.

Then as soon as his arm was cuffed back in place, the night truly began. Afterwards, Dipper was somewhat sure the pill might have had a memory-affecting component, but he remembered that they went in color order, with Mare leaning down first, immediately powering up and down with strong sucking and licking, the hum from her mouth doing magical things with his cock. Her head bobbed in a continuous, unceasing rhythm, and soon Dipper could feel his cock twitching. Mare pulled away, letting Dipper come across his new boxers; a wide smudge of red lipstick was across his cock, especially at the halfway point where she would pause to swirl her tongue.

Mare’s smile was slightly disappointed, but still excited as sat up and went to sit backwards on a chair in a corner of the room, watching as Belle approached. She ran her fingers along Dipper’s leg, teasing him as she came up to deliver a single orange-lipsticked kiss on his cheek, meeting his turned face for a brief exploration with her tongue before she broke the kiss. Then she stepped back, and began kissing and licking his boxers, cleaning up his spilled cum before running a tongue to clean up the dribble along his shaft, delivering a kiss on the tip before engulfing his length.

Unlike Mare, Belle instead just sucked and ran her tongue where it was, teasing the underneath of his cock while still gentle enough to not rub off Mare’s markings. She reached underneath, running her hand along Dipper’s balls, and this provided enough stimulation that he began to pulse into her mouth. His cock tingled, both from the orgasm as well as what he suspected was the edge of the alien prophylactic kicking in. Belle just held steady, sucking and humming appreciatively, before swallowing and grinning as she released Dipper’s shaft. Her lipstick was smudged almost to the very bottom, and she had a confident grin as she strode back to sit on her chair and gently finger herself.

May was next; she kissed all along Dipper’s thighs and chest, before kissing all over his cock. The sensation was wonderfully teasing, yet her hot breaths on his erection let him know she was just as aroused. This was further confirmed when she dipped her fingers under her panties, and ran the moistened fingers in a little circle around the head of his cock.

However, when she started to take it into her mouth and work her way down, her brown locks spilling over his chest, another thing spilled onto his chest: Optimus.

The tiny bird began screeching and peeping in anger as it hopped to its feet, but the shock made May jerk backwards, releasing his cock with a  _pop_. The sensation and shock was too much, and Dipper felt himself come, the spurting ropes almost hitting the poor bird as well as re-covering his boxers and now his chest as well. Optimus responded by flitting forward to land on his breast, firmly pecking him on the chin, and flying off to roost in a corner of the room, sulking.

Meanwhile, everyone else was having a fit, laughing hard enough to fall off of chairs. Even Belle, previously occupied with her own stimulation, had withdrawn her hand to cradle a stitch in her side. May, for her part, looked devastated, as her smudge had only begun a little past Dipper’s cockhead. Meg gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder as she stood to take her turn.

She began pumping his cock with her hand, slowly enough that the other lipstick markers weren’t being smudged away, but with a rhythm that she combined wonderfully with a teasing swirling of her tongue along his cock head. Meg would dip her head down to meet the head sucking and teasing little circles around the very tip of the opening, before sucking slightly further down.

As Dipper bucked his hips and felt the fourth orgasm rising, Meg plunged further down, rocking her head back and forth to both coax out the cumming as well as to establish her lipstick. She pulled away, most of the cum falling to stain her chest and mesh lingerie, but she just drew little idle circles in it absently as she smiled; her markings were the second-lowest, just barely coming in at or slightly above Belle’s markings.

Belle, for her part, seemed glad to have a challenger. “Looks like we’ll have a photo finish then?”, receiving a wink and a blown kiss from Meg in response.

BB nervously got to her feet, and trembling slightly, stepped over to Dipper. Mabel and May were both giving her encouraging smiles, with May cradling a still-fuming Optimus in her hands against her bare chest.

As she came over to sit on the bed next to Dipper, she gave him a little grin that he returned. “No pressure, huh?” he said, nodding towards the other sisters. BB nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear reflexively. Then she said in an low voice “I, uh, I apologize for any discomfort coming up,” as she wet a finger in her mouth.

Dipper just smiled as reassuringly as he could. “No worries, I’m sure you’ll do fi _INE?”_  His voice shot up in surprise and shock as the wetted finger disappeared up one of his boxer legs, stretching the flexible material as it made its way to his asshole. There, the moistened finger pushed gently and slowly-but-surely made its way past the rings of muscle.

The sensation was one Dipper had only rarely experienced before, but he was acutely aware of how glad he was that BB had cut her nails shorter; his previous experiment with Mabel back before the summer began had ended in pain thanks to an unfortunate scratch.

Then the probing finger found _something_ Dipper had only read about, and pushed firmly. Dipper gaped as he felt his balls clench, and abruptly BB engulfed his entire cock, a slight gag audible from the speed and depth she plunged. Only a moment afterward, that sensation and the internal stimulus had him pulsing into her mouth, causing her to cough and pull away. The other girls just stared in surprise.

Her marking was clearly lower than Meg’s, and possibly lower than Belle’s as well. Those two girls just sat back, and Belle began to applaud. “ _Nicely_ done; I didn’t even remember you could  _do_ that.” BB just sat back down, visibly embarrassed but still grinning slightly.

Then Marian stepped forward. She ran a finger through Dipper’s spilled cum across his chest and pooled around his boxers, and ran a little circle around his cock head and then to her lips, before running it along her slit as she slid the panties aside.

Stepping forward onto the bed on her knees, Dipper furrowed his brow in confusion. Then she repositioned, and he realized what she was planning to do right before she settled onto his length, his cock sheathed inside her as she began to rock and grind along his sticky hips.

Mabel sat forward, annoyance in her voice. “Hey, Marian: blowjob, remember? Did you want to get disqualified?”

Marian just laughed, a brief light sound in between throaty moans. “Hell, disqualify me. I just wanted to get some of this,  _ah_ , some of this cock inside me tonight. Blowjobs are nice and all, but _ahgod,_ but nothing beats getting your brains fucked out.”

Mabel sat back and shrugged, and Dipper could see that Belle’s look was actually one of slightly-annoyed envy. The other girls were watching with varying degrees of shock and interest as Marian continued to grind and rock on Dipper’s cock, sitting up until he almost slipped out before plunging back down to engulf his full length. Groaning, he could feel her squeezing her legs on either side as internal muscles squeezed around his shaft.

 _Damn, I forgot that Marian is sure proud of her kegels_ , he thought, and then Dipper could feel the twitching of his cock inside her. Evidently she could feel it too, as her hands dropped from massaging her breasts to bracing against his chest as she increased her pace and intensity.

“Dipper, do you want to cum in me?” she asked, her breathy request almost a mix between a plea and a command.

Dipper just groaned in response. She hissed in satisfaction, and bucked forward, her hot breath in his ear whispering “ _Then do it. Come in me. Fill me, bro, fill me with your cum.”_

That was the last straw, and Dipper could feel his balls clench as he came inside her. Marian whimpered and rocked her hips as she came as soon as he finished, causing him to twitch as her internal spasms milked another jet of cum out of him.

Then she sat back, sighing in satisfaction, and lifting herself slightly to free his cock as it popped loose. Panting slightly, Dipper lifted his head to see Mabel standing beside the bed, hands on her hips.

“Uh, sis? Your turn’s up: clear the way for the next challenger.”

Marian just smiled, but slowly rubbed her pussy lips once more along Dipper’s cock before stepping off and back to her chair. She was slowly running a finger along the cum leaking out as she sat, seemingly oblivious to some of the hungry and aroused looks his other sisters were giving her.

Mabel stepped forward, and just as he remembered from before this wonderful summer began, started to give him one of her patented Mabel Happy Sucks; it was a series of stages of intensity, starting off with almost more of a handjob interspersed with deep plunging licks, then migrating to continual pressure at mid-length as her hands roamed over his body, especially focusing on grabbing and squeezing his butt cheeks teasingly. Lastly, she would move all the way down, tongue gyrating wildly as she turned her head back and forth, creating a corkscrew sensation that caused his mind to lose track of its current thought for a second.

He came, and this time the recharge sensation he had felt immediately after the alien pill had kicked in the other times was notably delayed, and the ensuing erection notably less rigid. His original sister popped her head free, and he could see her coloration was intermingled down near where BB and Belle had made their marks; it was slightly difficult to tell, though, as Marian’s own juices had threatened to wipe off some of the lipstick marks.

“Well, that’s it then, I suppose. Time to tally up the results-”

“This isn’t fair.” This came from May, arms crossed as Optimus sat on her shoulder. “Everyone knew Belle was probably going to win; why’d we have to have a sex competition after all? Why not, I dunno-”

“What, bird-taming?” This came from Belle, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, gee whiz, I wonder who would have won that one?”

“She’s right, though.” This was Mare, sitting up and with a look of annoyance on her face. “I want to be able to see Piedmont for myself, instead of relying on photocopied memories.” This was met with a scattered murmur of “Me too” from the other girls. “Why sex?”

Mabel, Belle, and BB all spoke at once, saying “Dipper said-” “Well I thought Dipper’s plan was-” “I wanted _some_ kind of sex, so Dipper’s-”

Then they all stopped, looked at each other, and then looked to Dipper.

_Uh oh._

Marian grinned, and raised her hand. “If I can offer a suggestion, then; I’ve got a proposal, if you’ll all meet me in the living room in a minute for some girl talk?”

There were a set of glances shared around, and a few annoyed looks shot at Dipper. But when they came back a minute later from the brief huddle, they were all grinning.

Grinning, and staring at Dipper.

_Double uh oh._

Marian held forward a set of plastic colored drink straws. “All right, ladies, pick a straw. Long straw stays here, short straw is going to sunny Cali for the next three months!”

One by one, they picked their straws. Mare, Belle, Meg, and May all sighed or groaned in frustration at their long straws, but BB squeaked when she drew a short one. Marian gave her a congratulatory smile, before continuing along the circle. Mabel drew a long straw as well, a feeling that gave Dipper a temporary jolt in his heart, but also a sense of confusion as to why Marian had continued if the short straw was drawn.

“Well, that leaves me with the other short straw,” said Marian with a grin and a good-natured groan from the other sisters. Dipper couldn’t hold in his confusion.

“Wait, two straws? There’s no way we can hide two Mabels in Piedmont; Mom and Dad are inattentive, but not  _that_  clueless.”

Then the grins from all the sisters reappeared, and after being creeped out for a moment, realization dawned. Marian just strode over to BB, holding her hair back as she looked over her in mock evaluation.

“You know what? I think you’ll make a pretty damn good Dipper. What do you say?” BB began to nod, as Marian continued on to say “Of course, we should probably keep up the sneaking-into-each-others-rooms for sexy funtimes for old times’ sake, right?”

BB’s nod turned into a flush of deep crimson, but coupled to a smile with a hint of that mischievous twinkle Dipper had seen before.

_You know, I think Marian might be in for more of a surprise than she suspects._

Then Mabel stood, grinning at Dipper for a moment before turning to the others.

“Alright, time for BB and Marian to pack; Meg, I’ll need you to help BB get some makeup tips for as permanent of a birthmark as you can fake. Kapish?”

The other girls nodded, and they were all in the hallway and almost out the door when Dipper’s shout caught their attention.

“Hey, what about me?” He nodded towards the handcuffs.

May perked up. “Oh, right. Here you go, Optimus: Deliver these to Dipper!”

The bird grabbed the small metal key in its claw, and swooped towards Dipper as the door slammed shut. Then Dipper was left with Optimus on his breast, glaring suspiciously at him while making no attempt to bring the key to either of his restrained hands.

Dipper sighed.  _It’s going to be a long fall._


	2. Combination

Mabel was almost quivering with excitement.

“Dip! Dipper, look! I found it!” Her brother almost tackled her as she started to pull a gold-bound notebook out of her sweater, and instead yanked her further down the trail, around the bend as the Northwest Manor disappeared from view behind them.

“Mabes, you know how Pacifica is about touching her stuff,  _especially_  her diary.” He eyed it suspiciously. “If I remember right, last time she caught you trying to sneak it out, she had threatened to have it legally carry the same penalty as first-degree murder if you took it again.”

His twin just blew a raspberry. “Pshaw, Dipper, where’s your sense of adventure, of  _mystery?_ I’ll bet Pacifica has some killer encryptions in this bad boy!”

Dipper just sighed as he followed her back towards the direction of the Mystery Shack, but his curiosity was ablaze at what he might find cyphering the contents of the diary.

As it turned out, there was no cypher or encoding whatsoever; not so much as a black-light hidden-text surprise to be found. Instead, Pacifica had apparently been relying on the threats and reputation surrounding the diary to ensure it’s safety.

As he sat on the bed, Dipper couldn’t help but feel somewhat put-out, but Mabel was having a ball, reading their friend’s innermost secrets with glee, giggling and occasionally reading aloud a particular section to Dipper.

Then she hit the paragraph Dipper knew he would never forget, and audibly gasped. Dipper’s head jerked up to see what was the matter, but Mabel had already leaned up from where she was sprawled on her back, her eyes running over the text as she murmured, her eyes growing wide in shock.

After a few stunned moments of silence, she passed over the diary, murmuring “I-uh, I think you oughta read this one for yourself, Dip.”

His eyes flicked to the top of the page, noting that the ink here was in a romantic crimson rather than the black and blue contained in most of the rest of the pages.

_“Dear Diary,_

_“It happened today again at the pool, when Dipper and Mabel were taking turns doing canonballs off of the diving board. Their bodies just looked so good, and the looks they gave each other; I know it was all just sibling fun, but my imagination says there’s more there, that they could be lovers.”_

Dipper swallowed, looking up to make nervous eye contact with his sister. They had been dating, secretly, for almost a year, but he thought they’d been pretty darn discreet. After all, neither their parents nor their Grunkles had apparently suspected a thing. He looked back down and kept reading after Mabel nodded back towards the diary.

_“But, while that might all just be fantasy, there’s no reason I can’t direct the fantasy as I want, so here goes: On a dark and stormy night, Dipper feels a hand rubbing along his hard, beautiful cock, and looks up only to see that the hand belongs to Mabel. She gives him a smile, and lowers his head as she-”_

He cut off there, the description getting continually more raunchy as it went on. Dipper could feel his pants begin to tighten from his growing erection as he read to himself, and he awkwardly tried to shift his legs to conceal it. He and Mabel might have had sex once, but he was still nervous around her and they were still trying to figure out how their relationship should work sexually in secret as well.

“Wow. Mabel, you know what this is?” He took a deep gulp. “This is-”

“Blackmail material of the highest order!” Mabel already had the wide-eyed grin Dipper had seen on Grunkle Stan before he was about to make a huge pile of illegitimate money, and it slightly worried him to see his sister the same way.

He groaned. “Mabel, what on earth do you want to blackmail Paxy for?”

She grinned, tapping the side of her head. “Remember when she bet us she could score a perfect round in skeeball, and when we lost we had to dress up like french maids and clean up her-”

She stopped, mid-sentence, eyes wide. “Oh. Oooh. Dip, you don’t think she was intending for us to be  _sexy_ maids, were you?”

Dipper snorted in a chuckle. They were given fairly skimpy black-and-white maid outfits, but Mabel had made a beeline for the cleaning supplies, and Dipper ended the day with blisters on his hands and scuff marks on his hands and knees from scrubbing every surface in the house they could reach apart from the Silver Room. If Pacifica had intended for them to actually look sexy, the effect must have been ruined by the dust masks, yellow rubber gloves, and buckets of sudsy detergent they spent all day sweatily carrying around.

Mabel pouted. “Well, it wasn’t obvious at the time, all right?” He gave her a reassuring smile, his cock throbbing again at the memory of his sister bent over, black thong revealed for all the world as she scrubbed a dirt stain from under a potted shrubbery.

_Of course, that entry for Pacifica’s journal would probably tell us what she thought too, but I’d bet it probably wasn’t a total loss._

Mabel suddenly grinned with a look Dipper had learned to fear being on the receiving end of. “Hey Dip; you up for a plan to get back at Pacifica?”

He nodded, and his twin began to lay out her plan as midnight approached.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, after they wolfed down breakfast, Dipper was waiting by the golf cart for Mabel to come out. She had run off to get a particularly-crucial supply, and came out holding a small roll of blue carpeting.

Looking closely, DIpper could see the frayed edges of several precious-metal threads poking out, and he gave Mabel a worried look as she hopped into the seat next to him. “Mabes, are you sure that works when it’s not in the rest of the body-swapping rug?”

She froze, slowly turner her head to face Dipper, and let out a blood-curdling piggy squeal. When DIpper jumped back and shouted, her composure broke down into a helpless fit of laughter. He just crossed his arms, and waited for her to regain her composure and answer his question.

Finally, the last few chuckles leaked out and she sat back up, only to see Dipper’s look of annoyance. “Oh come on, brobro, it works, alright? I even tested it on a couple of woodland critters this morning, just to be sure.”

She pointed towards a robin and a squirrel over next to the other end of the parking lot, a distinctly purple and sequined ID tag taped around each’s leg.

The squirrel made some sort of strangled chittering-chirp noise, hoped twice, and then began wiggling its arms wildly up and down. Meanwhile the robin bolted for the tree after a flurry of movement, attempting to climb upwards using just its scrawny clawed feet. Gravity quickly asserted itself, and the small bird toppled backwards, impacting into the tree before losing its grip and falling back to the forest floor; as he squinted, Dipper could see it had a small acorn held firmly in its beak.

Mabel gave him a triumphant grin, and he just chuckled. “All right, you win. Let’s go see Pacifica.” Mabel pumped a fist into the air as they drove off down the gravel drive.

Pacifica, as predicted, was not happy when the Pines twins returned. Mabel was grinning, outstretched hands holding the shimmering golden binding of her diary.

The Northwest heiress snatched it out of her hand, pulling it to cradle next to her chest. In a voice equally filled with anger and anxiety, she growled “Did you read any of it?”

Mabel continued to grin, and just nodded her head. Now Pacifica’s voice notably held more concern than anger.

“Which part?”

Mabel’s grin managed to grow a degree wider, and she grabbed Dipper by his shirt sleeve, pulling him close to leave a longing, loving kiss on his lips; his brain short-circuited, and he had to actively remind himself not to engage in any tongue action yet. As far as Pacifica knew, they were egging her on, and not actually lovers.

 _That part comes later,_  he thought with a smirk.

When they broke the kiss, Pacifica was crimson across her entire face and chest. She coughed, sputtering as she finally said “Y-y-you, how  _dare_ you-”

Mabel put a hand on her shoulder, and Pacifica flinched in surprise. Dipper could hear his sister’s low murmur, as she said “Now, Pacifica, it would be an awful shame if the photocopies we made ever got out into the wild, huh?”

That was a blatant lie, of course. The only photocopier they had was the one that made living copies, and the last thing they needed was animated and sentient book pages running around the Shack. Still, Grunkle Stan had taught them well, and Mabel’s falsehood rolled off the tongue easily.

Pacifica just sat back, hands crossed over her chest. “So what do you want then? F-father said that no-one ever tells you about their leverage unless they want to use it.”

Mabel just nodded. “All I need is for you to close your eyes for sixty seconds, and have faith that we actually don’t want to ruin your life, believe it or not.” Pacifica gave her a disbelieving grunt, but closed her eyes and began muttering the countdown to herself under her breath.

On cue, Dipper whipped off his backpack, unzipping it to pass Mabel the rolled-up fragment of the blue magical rug. She unfurled it on the marble floor next to Pacifica, and then immediately yanked off her shoes and began shuffling sock-first on the carpet patch.

Cocking her head, Dipper could see Pacifica was curious, but she kept her eyes shut as instructed. However, her countdown was getting louder, back up to speaking volume as she finished the last few seconds.

“Five…four…three…I don’t really know why you wanted to do this, but whatever…one.”

As she opened her eyes, Mabel reached out and tapped her nose with an outstretched finger.

There was a flash of white light, and a shout of surprise and alarm from both Mabel and Pacifica, the voices sounding like one and the same for a brief moment. Dipper started to take a step forward, and then the afterglare was gone. Mabel was wobbling on her feet, but Pacifica had her hands on her hips triumphantly. She turned, and her eyes met Dipper’s as she grinned widely with her perfect teeth.

“Toldja it would work, brobro.”

Pacifica, in Mabel’s body, looked up, eyes wide. “Wait,  _what?_  What’s going on? How come you look like…me?” She had looked down, seeing the sweater and the mop of brown curls framing her face, and collapsed onto the floor in shock.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, you put me in you and you in me, and oh god what does this mean for-”

She was cut off by Mabecifica- _Nope, that name won’t work because then Pacifica in Mabel’s body becomes ‘Pabel’ and that sounds like the name of a mobster hitman, let’s just stick with Mabel_ -Mabel’s hand on her shoulder.

“Paxy, don’t worry! It’s reversible.” Pacifica looked up at her from ruddy, tear-stained cheeks, and down to the patch of still-sparking carpeting. She rose to dive for it when Dipper intervened and cleared his throat.

“Not that easy, Pacifica. Remember that time you had us dress up in those french maid outfits?” Knowing his own sister’s tells for lying and arousal made it abundantly clear when Pacifica flushed along the top of her cheeks and as her ears twinged a bright red.

He just grinned. “See, that’s what I thought. This is payback for that. Everyone will be back in their bodies in the end, but for tonight we’re going to have some fun first.” As he leaned forward, Pacifica started to lean towards him, before stopping self-consciously.

That was when Mabel leaned over, murmuring into her ear “You know, if you wanted to make the fantasy of brother kissing sister real, you’re in my body, and my brother is right there, with  _hmm_ , very kissable lips from the look of it.”

Pacifica let out a whimper of excitement, and as Dipper leaned forward again, she pushed forwards suddenly, her lips clashing into his; hungry, and with a probing intensity Mabel’s slow and almost lazy licks and kisses lacked. Her hand met his and fingers interlaced as the other hand made its way under his chest, her claws and Mabel’s numerous bracelets tickling along his light muscle tone as her mouth explored his.

As he reached up with his own free hand and brushed along Pacifica’s breast, she jolted back, panting from the makeout but also with a look of pleasant shock on her face. Mabel just giggled.

“See? What did I tell you last summer, having some sweater hounds instead of just sweater puppies can be fun!” Pacifica flushed again for a moment before nodding vigorously as one hand rose to begin exploring her own chest, running along her sides.

However, when she looked up at Dipper, her brown eyes clearly hungry for more, Mabel waved a hand in front of her face.

“Whoa there, partner! Quick timeout for important magic stuff.” With that, she finished the last shuffling on her feet, and tagged Dipper on the shoulder.

There was another flash of light, and suddenly Dipper found himself looking back at…himself. Mabel grinned at him with his own face, giving him a thumbs up before abruptly leaning forward.

“Mabes?” he asked in concern, surprised at how light his own voice was now. “Mabes, is something wrong-”

She leaned backwards, and Dipper could feel himself flush as he saw she was rubbing a hand over the erection in her pants. She leaned backwards, a look of satisfaction on her eyes.

“Oh man, Dipper, your Little Dipper is  _sensitive_. Man, this is crazy; how do you walk when you’re sporting a stiffy like this?” she said, gesturing towards the distinct bulge. Dipper just snorted in amusement.

“Normally you don’t; you just find a park bench or log or something to sit on and think of baseball until it goes away.”

Mabel smirked. “Well, brobro, I think there might be another way to kill the boner as well.” She turned to Pacifica, now staring back at her from her own body as she looked out through Dipper’s eyes. “Hey Paxy, want to make the  _rest_ of your fanfiction a reality?”

This time there was no hesitation, and Pacifica lunged forward, almost tackling Mabel as her mouth met hers, her hand rubbing against her shaft through the pants as Mabel moaned in appreciation.

Dipper was suddenly aware of an acute heat of his own, down between his legs. The sensation was wetter than he was used to, and less pointedly sensitive to the pressures of his skirt than a cock would have been. He eased a hand down, and an exploratory finger flared the heat from an ember to a flame; as he rubbed, watching Pacifica undress his sister and help ease off her belt and boxers, he began to rub faster and harder. Dipper began panting, feeling the flame smolder and seemingly spread slowly across his entire body.

Looking around, Dipper found a decorative French-vintage engraved chair a few feet away, and gratefully sank into it. Then he began to run his free hand across his own body, appreciating the smooth and downy hair and modest curves as he did so.

Then the hand reached his own breast, and another dimension of sensation opened for him. Ambel had tried playing with his nipples before when they were into a heavy petting session, but it had either been ticklish or painful depending on what she was attempting to do.

Now, though, it was like he had unlocked a pint of gasoline to pour on the fire within, and Dipper plunged his fingers to rub hard against the slick silk panties once, then twice, as his legs clenched and his ears began to ring.

As the orgasm passed, Dipper looked up to see that Mabel and Pacifica had migrated onto the polar-bear-skin rug in front of the cold fireplace of the study. Mabel was rolling her hips upwards as she plunged her cock up into Pacifica, who was panting and letting out little squeals of pleasure as she plunged up and down on the shaft.

As he watched, hand still lazily rubbing his own slit and enjoying the novel feelings it elicited, he could see Pacifica shiver, clench her teeth, stiffen her whole body, and then let out a long moan as she practically melted deeper onto Mabel’s cock. Mabel groaned appreciatively, but Dipper knew from experience that his blessing of surprisingly-good stamina would see his body through at least that orgasm without cumming itself.

 _Why let them have all the fun?_ He thought, standing and stretching for a moment before striding over to them. Mabel grinned, while Pacifica had her eyes shut and was off in another dimension of post-orgasm afterglow, her hips still bucking on Mabel’s erection.

Dipper knelt over Mabel’s mouth, and panted an appreciative “Ah  _yes_ , just like that” as she leaned her head up slightly to begin running her tongue along his slit. Her stubble tickled and scratched, but it just seemed to intensify the sensation, and soon Dipper was pushing his crotch as firmly onto Mabel’s face as he dared to. Pacifica had an eye cracked open, and gasped and hummed as Dipper leaned forward to take one her her ponderous breasts in his mouth. Her hands worked their way into Dipper’s straight blond hair, pulling him closer to her as she rolled towards him.

Then Dipper felt Mabel’s licking stop, and felt her grunted breath; at the same time, Pacifica gasped in aroused anticipation, and let out a whimper that matured to a panting yelp of ecstasy as she plunged down again and again onto Mabel’s cock as she came.

Dipper was on the brink of coming himself, but Mabel’s sudden stop had interrupted his rhythm. Then without warning, Pacifica plunged forward with a sultry hum, engulfing Dipper’s breast. He whimpered as he felt the orgasm rebuild, coming to the edge of crashing over him again.

Then Pacifica gave his nipple a little tender nibble, and Dipper’s universe went white for a few blissful seconds.

As he flopped back onto the bearskin, panting, Pacifica joined him, with Mabel on the far edge. Their host grinned at him as she said “I guess it pays to know my own personal turn-ons, huh?” Dipper just nodded wordlessly as he gasped to regain his breath.

“So what’s next Mabel?” asked Pacifica, as she looked into Dipper’s eyes and ran a finger along his chin and through his hair, as he cupped her ass and ran a hand along her sweat-sheened thigh.

There was no reply. “Mabel?” said Pacifica, as she started to lean forward.

Mabel crashed into both of them, pinning Pacifica back down with one arm while her torso pushed Dipper down. He felt a delicious sensation of Mabel’s half-flaccid cock sliding along his stomach, but before he would will it to move lower, there was the sound of a floppy piece of carpeting rubbing against someone’s head, a crackle of static, and a protest of “Hey, my  _hair!”_ before there was another flash of white.

 

* * *

 

When dawn broke the next morning, Dipper leaned forward. He was apparently in Mabel’s body, judging from the bracelets, the curly brown hair, and the strong taste of his vanilla cupcake lipgloss when he licked his lips.

Looking over, he saw Pacifica sitting up. She had at least a dozen of Mabel’s glitter stickers across her nude upper body, including a pair of winky-face suns over both nipples, and there was the shiny residue of sweat and cum across her chest and neck.

_Well, there’s a fifty-fifty chance I get this right._

“So, Paxy, how was that for revenge?”

She turned her head to face him, and let out a piercing porcine screech, squealing in anger at him.

Dipper, nonplussed, smirked. “Nice, Mabel. You coulda told me it was you instead.” From the other side of Pacifica’s form was his original body, slowly groaning and rolling over before sitting up.

“Brobro? What’s with all the racket?”

Dipper felt his stomach lurch. “Wait, if you’re there, then who’s-” His question cut out as Waddles trotted into the room. Written on the side in Mabel’s favorite purple lipstick was a slightly-smudged  _“Who’s the sexiest pig?”._

Pacifica glared at him from behind porcine eyes. “Do. Not. Say. A. Word.”

Dipper just nodded, biting back a laugh, but even as Mabel snickered and reached over to grab ahold of Waddles’ wrist and the carpet swatch, she turned to make eye contact with Pacifica while rubbing the carpet swatch against the bearskin.

_“Who’s the sexiest widdle piggie? You are! That’s right, you are!”_

Then there was a snap of static, and everything went white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A combination of two prompts from Anons: "The twins discover Pacifica secretly ships them, so they tease her about it until she can't hold back anymore," & "Mabel and Dipper use the body switching carpet to spice things up."


	3. Quality Time

Cassie sighed as she fluffed her pillow. Mason was already under a ridiculously-thick blanket, to ward off the late-spring chill that had swept through Gravity Falls. Grauntie Janet had said something about saving money on heating bills, and had refused to turn up the house temperature despite the twins’ pleas. While snuggling together in the same bed was a lovely option, there was still the risk of a Grauntie cracking open the door to check on them and years of careful smooching and sexing would be ruined.

Still, her shiver now wasn’t from the cold air. She turned over in bed to look towards Mason; he must have felt her gaze, as he turned to look back.

“Mase, have you felt…I dunno, down lately?” She sighed again, and this time her twin brother mirrored the expression.

Then he perked back up.

“I had been, but then I sent a letter to Mabel and got a reply back!” He waved a bright-pink glitter envelope, and Cassie’s jaw dropped.

“What? When? You didn’t tell me so I could send Dip a letter too?” She was feeling the indignance and anger fighting against another surge of melancholy, and suddenly she stiffened.

 _I wonder if I had been missing them too?_ She shivered, this time as a cold breeze blew through some unplastered crack in the attic.  _After all, while I still love Mason to bits, thinking of them makes my heart ache the same way as when Mason is off on a band trip for a weekend without me._

Mason just shrugged and smiled a little in apology. “Sorry, sis. Turns out Grauntie Juliet has been working with their Grunkle Ford to make sure there’s no new unsanctioned transmissions.”

Then he held up a finger. “Unless, however, one were to use invisible ink on the inside of the wrapping paper they use when packaging their specimens they send to each-other.”

Cassie just stared for a moment, before leaning back and applauding slightly. Still, it seemed like Mason was holding something back, and she prompted him with a quiet “And? What did she say?”

Mason’s smile to his sister was now tinged with sadness. “They’ve been feeling the same way as us. Mopey, bummed out, and otherwise missing their sis and brobro from another momo.” She raised an eyebrow at the terrible attempt to rhyme, but Mason just powered through it as he continued.

“But Mabes had an idea: she had Dipper hack whatever inventory system Ford uses for his inventory and shipping setup with Grauntie Juliet.” The smile grew wider, almost manic. “And guess what package containing a pair of  _very_  x-ray-sensitive and under-no-circumstances-should-be-scanned whisper monkeys, weighing approximately the same as two young adult humans and shipped in a crate in a sealed and light-blocking crate is planned for being shipped Friday night?”

Cassie let out a little muted squeal of excitement, before clearing her throat.

“And you’re sure they won’t realize anything’s wrong?”

Mason nodded. “Absolutely. It’s foolproof.”

 

* * *

 

Grauntie Juliet looked over her inventory list again, a particular entry highlighted. Normally, she wouldn’t pre-emptively check her inventory system for arrivals from Ford unless he had messaged her to warn her it was time-sensitive, volatile, or otherwise warranted immediate attention.

This time, however, his notification had just said “I say we let it slide.”

Sure enough, this was a crate for a pair of whisper monkeys, orange-furred apes that were renowned for never vocalizing at a volume above a speaking tone. They were sensitive to disturbance, but definitely not  _this_ sensitive, as she read through the scanning exceptions that had been added to the Warnings column.

She sighed, rubbing a pair of fingers against the bridge of her nose.  _Well, I know they’ll be in good hands, and they seem to be in a bit of a funk. Maybe they hit it off better than I had expected._

As she approached the large crate, there was a sound of slight movement within, and then a distinctly puppy-like sneeze, and then a second. The movement within stopped, and went dead silent. Juliet paused for effect, went for a full count of sixty in her head before grinning to herself and pushing the crate along the rollers and through the green glowing portal.

 

* * *

 

“See?” murmured Mason, as the sounds of Grunkle Ford’s footsteps faded away and the  _ding_  of the closing elevator doors sounded. “What did I tell you: foolproof.”

He nudged Cassie. “Even if  _someone_ sneezes at the worst possible time.”

She just silently glowered back, and Mason snickered.

As they sat and the minutes ticked past, Mason suddenly tilted his head. “Oh shoot, I forgot to mention: Mabes said that they wanted to try dates with our opposite’s twin. Me with Dip, you with her.  Does that sound ok?”

Cassie felt a bit of annoyance to her brother for omitting something that important, but then forced herself to take a breath and shrugged.  _After all, maybe switching things up will help further bury this damn funk._

Then there was another  _ding_ from the elevator, and this time a pair of whispered voices approached. Then a loud crunch of wood against a metal crowbar, the screeching protest of dozens of small nails, and the light suddenly streamed into the cramped doghouse-sized animal carrier.

“Howdy!” came Mabel’s voice, and Mason replied back with a “Howdy yerself, missy!” before helping Mabel as much as he could in unlocking and opening the doors to the cramped container. When Cassie was finally able to crawl out and stretch her legs, it felt like she’d had them pulled up to her chest for the last decade, and her knees popped in protest.

Almost as soon as she stood, Mabel had her by the hand and was pulling her towards the elevator. “Alrighty, Mason, like we agreed on, only maybe scoot up the timetable? We didn’t realize the team our Grunkle’s bowling group was up against was the Centralia Crokinolers. They’re infamous for their gutter balls, so we only probably have half the time I originally thought.”

Mason was right behind her, Dipper walking alongside while blushing and with his hands in his vest pockets. His expression made Cassie want to reach out and stroke his cheek, tease his hair away from the birthmark they almost shared, but Mason had said he and Mabel were firm on the ground rules: one date and any funtimes afterwards with assigned sibling, and then a return to the regular free-for-all before Grunkles came back home.

A few minutes later and she was up in the attic with Mabel. Dipper and Mason had lost the coinflip, and were out in the balmy spring weather that had blessed this Gravity Falls’ forest. Mabel had already pulled out a cup and proffered it to Cassie.

“D’you want some sprinkles?”

Cassie had just looked at the empty cup in confusion, before Mabel giggled. “I’ll take that as a ‘maybe.’ Well then…” She leaned over, pulling the cardboard threaded tub over by her door, one that Cassie had assumed until a moment ago was some sort of forgotten industrial jug of paint or fuel or something.

When she saw Mabel come up with a cup full to the overflowing brim with candy sprinkles, Cassie had to laugh. “Sorry, Mabes, that’s a no from me there,” she said, eyeing the thousands of concentrated calories with fascination as Mabel poured a sizable quantity into her mouth.

Mabel had then leaned backwards, eyes roaming around the room, shooting Cassie little smiles but clearly trying to come up with a line of conversation. Cassie followed her gaze, before stopping on her open diary doodles.

“You draw in your diary too?”

Mabel perked up, her grin gleaming as she scooted over to sit next to Cassie on the bed; Cassie was suddenly acutely aware of where the bare skin below the edge of her shorts was brushing against the bare skin below Mabel’s skirt hem, as Mabel opened the diary to show it to her.

“Yeah! Dipper keeps a diary too, but it’s almost all just notes and calculations. When we were doing some updates to Grunkle Ford’s cryptid lists, I was the designated drawer.”

Cassie grinned. “That’s awesome! Mason doesn’t keep a diary, but he does try to do daily video entries as much as he can.”

As she reached to turn the page, Mabel had made to point towards a drawing, and her hand fell across Cassie’s. There was a long beat as she looked Cassie in her eyes, brown reflecting brown. Then a little giggle from Mabel, murmuring “Heh. Clumsy me; whoops, wheee” as she leaned in towards Cassie.

Cassie’s lips met hers, luxuriating in the taste of Mabel’s lipgloss. Mason only used lipgloss when they were dressing up, but Mabel had a similar-but-intriguingly-different vanilla taste to the flavor she remembered her brother using.

_I wonder how Mason and Dipper are doing right about now?_

 

* * *

 

A few minutes earlier, Dipper had been leading the way along a curving path through the loamy forest floor. Fern patches cropped up here and there where light peeked through the dense weave of branches overhead, and more than once he had to help hold a draping vine of moss out of the way of Mason’s head. For the third time that morning, Mason was shaking his head.

“So you’re telling me that despite having every cryptid from platypus to dung beetles, you don’t have a single skunk-bear?”

Dipper shrugged. “Nope.”

Mason raised an eyebrow. “Armadillo-bears?”

“Huh-uh.”

“Gopher-bears?” A tinge of desperation entered Mason’s voice.

“Never heard of them. All we have is just…well, just bears, I guess.”

Mason leaned against a stump. “Weird.”

“Says the guy who just spouted three different made-up bears at me.” Dipper snorted.

Mason’s grin faded. “Nope; they’re the real deal. You ever hit a skunk, like while driving?”

Dipper shook his head and wrinkled his nose. “No, but I’ve smelled when someone else had.”

The reply dropped to a deadly quiet.

“Well, take that smell, bottle it, distill it, and then proceed to take a paintbrush and coat every surface inside of your nose with this stinky, horrible, unspeakable concoction.”

He shuddered as a memory came to the surface. “Our schoolbus hit one in junior high on our way to a band competition. They had to declare the vehicle totaled due to a scent gland getting ruptured against part of the frame, not one person aboard avoided getting vomit on their clothes, and at least a dozen kids to my knowledge were assigned school counselors and therapists afterwards to help with recovery.”

Dipper just stared, mouth slightly open, and then he closed it and swallowed.

“Nope, we _definitely_ don’t have those here.”

He received a little smile in return, and then Mason’s face lit up.

“Oh, right! I forgot about this one thing I wanted to-” His voice cut out as he pulled a yellow tube of lipgloss out of a pocket, and tossed it to Dipper.

“So, I borrowed this from your sister’s stash. Take a smell, tell me what you smell.”

Dipper popped off the top, and inhaled the heady aroma of banana. “Uh, it smells like bananas?”

The grin Mason had on was accompanied by an elaborate eyebrow waggle. “So, brobro from another momo, tell me: have you ever actually  _eaten_ a banana that ever tasted like  _that?”_

Dipper opened his mouth, shut it, furrowed his brow, and after a few seconds just shook his head. His counterpart tapped the outline of his phone in his pocket.

“I did some research of my own, and turns out you guys only have Cavendish bananas, and they might as well be tubes of cardboard for all the flavor they have in comparison. The banana all of your banana flavors are based on went extinct like half a century ago.”

Dipper’s eyes widened slightly. “Whoa.” Then his brow furrowed in confusion. “But wait, you found all this out on your own?”

Putting his hands on his hips and affected a mocking, injured air, Mason said “Well, sometimes siblings can do their own research.” He dropped the accent. “Seriously, though, the comparison of our two realities is really crazy when we compare Wikipedias. Remind me to tell you about the time Napoleon conquered Russia.”

Before he could interject to ask, Dipper saw the other twin rooting around in his backpack, before emerging with…something. Mason hid it from view, huddled over it with his back to Dipper as he manipulated it. Then he turned around, his mouth full of mushed banana.

Discarding the peel as he strode over to where Dipper was sitting on a nurse log, Mason swallowed, and then leaned close into his face. Dipper could feel his cheeks flush, and Mason murmured “This smell remind you of anything?”

Dipper inhaled, and was shocked to realize it smelled almost identical to Mabel’s lip gloss.

Then the shock faded, and he began to feel the heat in his cheeks begin to spread across his bodies as he detected the underlying vanilla tinge that both Mason and Mabel seemed to prefer for their body washes and lip glosses. Underneath that was another layer, a hungry, musky smell that had Dipper leaning forward without realizing it.

Then his libido managed to slip the reins of the rest of his brain, and he murmured “Can I taste it too?”

Mason’s eyes darted to the empty and discarded peel, and he opened his mouth to say something when Dipper leaned forward, his lips meeting those of his other twin. Mason chuckled, and returned the kiss. His lips parted, as Dipper’s tongue slid inside to probe his mouth.

_Yup, tastes like no banana I’d ever tasted but just like every banana I’ve ever smelled._

Mason broke the deep tonguing kiss to look apologetically at the banana peel lying forlornly on the forest floor. “I, um, I  _had_ planned to do a sexy banana sucking thingy, but, um, well-” he shrugged, “-those Gros Michel bananas are  _really_  good.”

Laughing, Dipper just wrapped his arm around Mason, pulling him back into the kiss, while his other hand roamed down to rub on the bulge on the top of Mason’s shorts. He received an appreciative moaning hum, and then perked up as some sort of idea came to him.

Pushing him gently to the soft, flaking surface of the log, Mason pressed Dipper’s chest gently with a palm until Dipper was lying with his back flat on the log. He had only a moment to appreciate the beauty of the light trickling past the branches overhead when he felt Mason sitting on his chest. A brief glance up saw him with his back to Dipper’s face, and Dipper groaned with anticipation as he felt Mason’s hands running up and down his thighs, returning to cup his tented erection time and again.

Then a zipper was lowered, some cotton was shifted aside, and Dipper felt the warm breeze across the bare skin of his shaft for a moment, before Mason began lazily pumping it with his hands. As he leaned down to give Dipper a long kiss on the head of his cock, Dipper’s own hands had reached over Mason’s thighs, rubbing insistently at the bulge in his own shorts.

Mason obliged with another half-chuckle, half-moan, and sat up, his legs shimmying backwards to either side of the log until the bulge of his pants was directly over Dipper’s face. His hands worked quickly, and freed Mason’s shaft after a pair of silky nylon boxers were shifted aside.

Then he moved his mouth up to run his tongue along the underneath and to either side of Mason’s erection. He groaned, and then moaned as Dipper took his shaft into his mouth, humming with excitement as he felt Mason do the same. Dipper began to mirror what he felt Mason doing to his own cock, running his tongue in teasing circles when his shaft was teased, or sucking hard and moving up and down along the length when he felt the same sensation below.

Then Dipper felt his cock begin to twitch, and he gasped, mouth still completely full of cock. Mason just hummed in amusement, somehow managing to convey confidence even in his current position, and Dipper felt his powerful sucking with tongue swirls as he tensed, jerked, and began to cum into his twin’s mouth.

Mason finished, popping free with a growl and a grin as he said “It’s- _ah_ -your turn, Dip. You ready for my cum?”

Dipper just nodded, feeling the lance of arousal from the words sending a final halfhearted twitch to his rapidly-shrinking cock, and he could feel Mason’s own shaft twitch and throb in his mouth. Then there was an explosion of heat, and then another; salty and bitter, but a sensation that still made Dipper’s own flaccid cock give a twitch and caused him to sigh in contentment.

Then Mason pulled free, and Dipper swallowed. Or at least tried to.

He sat up, coughing and sputtering from trying to swallow that much of a load while upside-down, and Mason’s look of concern turned to a grin as Dipper gave him a watery-eyed smile. “Heh. Well _that_ definitely didn’t taste like banana.”

As the two twins sat on the log, they glanced off along the trail in the direction of the Shack.

“I wonder how our sisters’ ‘date’ is going?”

 

* * *

 

Cassie moaned, her legs failing her again as she tried to run. The sensation between her legs got even more intense even as the vibration changed the pattern, and Mabel let out a triumphant shout as she came around the corner, and gently tapped Cassie on her sweat-sheened forehead with the remote to the vibrator.

“Tag. You’re it.”

Cassie just groaned and laughed, in between little pants as the afterglow of the mini-orgasm faded. She reached under and into her jeans,  feeling the wetness of her own excitement until she felt the loop of string, and with a shiver of sensation she pulled the vibrator free and passed it to Mabel.

The other twin grinned, and reached under her skirt, lifting a leg up onto the kitchen chair as she adjusted. Then she lowered and smoothed her skirt, and with a mischievous grin said “Ready!”

Cassie closed her eyes, hand tight around the inactivate remote, and began counting.

“One one thousand, two one thousand-”

Then her jaw dropped and her eyes snapped open as she heard the code being punched into the gift shop vending machine. It clattered shut, and the remaining twenty-eight seconds of countdown were the longest Cassie could ever remember.

Following Mabel’s path to the vending machine and down the hallway behind it, there were no places for Mabel to hide before or inside the elevator.

_That leaves the study, and the portal room._

Cassie grinned.  _You’re trapped, Mabes_.

She first combed over the study, opening filing cabinets and randomly hitting the power level on the remote in an effort to try and make Mabel reveal herself, but after a few long minutes of searching, she realized Mabel must be below her with the portal.

 _So, that room’s big enough that a tag is definitely not guaranteed_.

Her eye caught a set of electronics and soldering equipment over on one of Ford’s desks.

 _Let’s help even those odds a little_.

When the elevator doors opened on the lowest floor, Cassie only stepped directly in front of them to let them close, and pulled out the bulky, modified remote. She turned it on, and began just moving her arm in an up and down zigzag, moving an incremental degree to the side with each completed zigzag.

After she got a little over halfway through her zigzagging with the remote, there was a distant sound of shock and arousal from out in the portal room itself. Casie kept her arm trained on the spot as she left the control room, and her grin grew as she could hear Mabel’s panting voice calling out in bewilderment.

“Cass, what did you  _ahgod_ what did you  _do?”_ There was a whimpering shriek that Cassie recognized as a stifled orgasmic shout, and she kept approaching as she explained.

“Well, I made a few modifications. First was to install a real antenna, getting a waaay better range than you had before.”

Another step forward, and she could see Mabel’s twitching foot against the gravel behind a corner of one stalagmite off near the shutdown keys for the portal.

“Second, well; second was noticing the rhythm you seemed to like with your,  _ahmm,_  with that dildo of yours, and hardcoding it into the pulsing pattern of the remote.” Her thighs clenched a little at the memory of the double-dildo, as she pushed back and felt Mabel doing the same, sending the artificial monster cock into both of them as she could feel Mabel’s ass pressed up against her own.

“Last was to upsize the battery usage on the transmissions. Downside is that the remote unit inside you will run dry of juice in only about ten minutes now.” She let loose a sharklike grin as she continued to approach.

“On the other hand, those will be one  _hell_  of a ten minutes.”

Mabel growled aloud, this time unmuffled and echoing off of the walls of the cavern as she came again, and Cassie could see her legs clench together, one hand braced against the gravel floor while the other was rubbing her own mound frantically, her skirt riding high up on her propped-up leg.

Groaning with dismay at seeing Cassie, Mabel struggled to her feet, one hand on her crotch and the other using the rocky formation as support. Cassie almost felt bad for her.

Almost. Cassie had been on the receiving end of the vibe earlier, and this was fair game in her book.

She smirked and leaned in to tap Mabel on the head. “Any last words?”

Mabel’s breathing steadied, and she looked up with a glowering grin.

“More like  _five_ minutes.”

“Wha-” Mabel was already pushing past Cassie, ducking under the remote-armed hand, and she had taken the time to “struggle” getting to her feet to get into a runner starting stance. Cassie was caught flat-footed, and by the time she had begun to turn and run, Mabel was almost to the threshold of the control room.

“Dammit-” Cassie shook the remote, willing it to function as she ran. By some miracle, the batteries appeared to have one final charge left in them, and Mabel let out another surprised and aroused shout, before collapsing against the control panel of the portal.

Cassie reached her side panting, and avoided her waving arms to lightly bop Mabel’s head with the remote.

“Tag. You’re-”

She stopped.

The portal had changed color. Instead of a brilliant green, it was now a roiling purple, shot through with golden streaks. The console now read a blinking result: “ _Connection to Universe 54[4d]53.”_

_“Connection is stable”_

Both Cassie and Mabel had gone silent, with Cassie being the first to break the silence.

“What do we  _do?_  We can’t just tell Grunkle Ford we were messing around and accidentally-”

Mabel held up a hand, and smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea. Now hand me a pen.”

 

* * *

 

Meg stared at the glowing surface of the portal. She had just been reconnecting power supplies to simply diagnose how much progress would be needed to repower it, or dismantle it for other projects, but instead it had shimmered white, just like it did that summer years ago.

The bungalows were empty, and nobody was expected back for another half-hour at least. Meg had figured it would be a great time to do some unobtrusive electronic tinkering.

Now the portal was purple and gold, and distinctly  _alive_ looking.

With a crackling  _bzarp,_ a single sheet of folded paper came floating through. She grabbed it out of the air, and with shaking hands, unfolded it and began to read.

“ _To whom it may concern”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from an Anon: Swappleganger!AU: Both sets of twins realize that when they meet they mostly spend time with their counterpart, so they decide that this time they'll have a date with their twin's counterpart, with a nice "happy" ending.


	4. Temptation and Absolution

Mabel and Pacifica giggled, finishing the final touches to their costumes.

“Okay,” Pacifica said, straightening out her halo. “So what was the last bit before we text Dipper to come in?”

Mabel grinned, a slight bit of guilt tinging the edges of it as she revealed the grow-crystal flashlight. Pacifica’s eyes widened in horror.

“Oh, no. No way. Not after last time, with that ant hill.”

Mabel pouted, puckering her crimson-lipsticked lips. “Pleeeaaase Paxy? My whole plan was needs this to work.” Pacifica just crossed her arms over the white corset.

“Nope. No-way, no-how.”

As if she had a sudden realization, Mabel poked the edge of her mouth with a red latex-gloved hand.

“I’d let you have first dibs with the Little Dipper, you know.”

Pacifica cracked open one eye suspiciously, and then after a moment of resistance threw up her hands. “Fine. Fine, I guess. But we’re staying bigger than something passing insects can crush or fly off with, alright?”

Mabel just looked over to the collection of dolls on the shelf over the bed in Pacifica’s room.

“Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem.”

 

* * *

 

Dipper wandered into the room, his goosebumps across his almost-nude form suddenly vanishing in the comfortable warmth of Pacifica’s bedroom. The text had simply said “ _Come inside in just your boxers, and sit on the bed on the ‘X’, facing the door. Close your eyes, and for the rest of the night just let your conscience be your guide.”_

It was far from the most-complicated instructions Mabel or Pacifica had given him in terms of sex, and Dipper just locked the floor and set it on his pile of clothes. He came in, and sure enough some strips of masking tape marked a large ‘X’ on the bed, just a few feet from the headboard.

A careful glance confirmed there was no bucket of icewater poised above the bed, or other prank prepared. Still, Dipper was tense as he sat, closed his eyes, and waited.

There was a sound like someone lightly tapping a pencil on the headboard behind him, and then Dipper flinched slightly as he felt a pair of tiny spikes poke into his shoulders on both sides.

Apparently his flinching was noticed, because he felt  _something_ move, again on both shoulders, and the pressure became more like someone gently putting pressure on a pair of rounded pencil erasers instead.

Then he heard Mabel’s voice, quieter than he remembered, coming from his right shoulder.

“Diiipper. Diiiiiiper. It is I, your conscience of Vice. I command you to begin stroking your cock, and thinking of having dirty and incestuous sex with your sister.”

He could tell, even with the voice altered as it was by what he assumed must have been the grow-crystal light, that she was barely keeping from snickering.

Then Pacifica’s voice came from his other shoulder. “Diiipper, nooo. It is I, your conscience of Virtue, and I command that you do no such thing. Instead, stroke it and think of your friend and lover Pacifica, so that your erotic thoughts are pure.”

Dipper grinned, and did as commanded, withdrawing his stiff cock and began to gently stroke it. He could hear a slight whimper from Mabel’s shoulder, and the stance notably changed on Pacifica’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure what she had done until he cracked open an eye and tilted his head slightly to glance at her.

On his shoulder, Pacifica was wearing a white corset and gold spandex high-cut boyshorts. On her back was a pair of feathered costume wings, and a hairband complete with metal halo completed the effect.

She had her legs spread far enough apart that her hand could shift the material of her shorts aside, and even at a miniature scale he could see the glisten of her excitement and her quiet, almost inaudible breathy pants.

Then he felt a jerk of pain from the other side of his head, as Mabel yanked on a lock of hair.

“Cheater! No peeking, remember?”

Dipper looked over, and he could see Mabel was standing with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a high-cut red vinyl corset with matching thong; a set of long red gloves and thigh-high red fishnets  were accompanied by a spiked tail hanging from the back of the thong, and a pair of red sequined devil horns struggling to be visible through her mass of chestnut hair.

He grinned, and stuck his tongue out at Mabel, before flinching and yelping “Ow!” Mabel was now waving a red decorative sequined pitchfork in the air, one that was now glistening with saliva.

_That gives me an idea._

This time it was Mabel’s turn to yelp in surprise, as Dipper scooped her up in one hand, careful to ensure he was holding her firmly enough that she couldn’t escape, but gently enough that there was no risk of escape. The pitchfork was ineffectively jabbed at his fingers, but after a moment it stopped, as she looked up at her brother.

He grinned. “My turn to do a bit of sinning.”

Then he lifted her up, and with his free hand he stopped rubbing his shaft and instead nudged her legs apart with a pair of fingers. Thus splayed out, Dipper licked his sister between her legs in a long, lazy stroke. Mabel made a whimpering noise of excitement, and began pawing at her thong as best as she could.

Releasing his grip to let her stand on his palm, Dipper helped as Mabel discarded the thong and tail. Then she flopped to lean back on his palm, legs propped up and apart, and he grinned as he leaned forward to lick her again.

This time the effect was electric, and she shrieked and rolled her hips up to meet his tongue as it rubbed past. A moan rolled out as her hips fell away as the tongue lowered, but she was pressing against his palm with her hands to push herself deeper and harder onto his tongue with the next passage.

A second and third pass had Mabel bucking, until finally her legs clamped on either side of Dipper’s tongue, causing him to jerk and then chuckle. Then she flopped back against his palm, her locks splayed around her head like an explosion of brown.

“My turn.” As Mabel sat up at his words, Dipper lifted her again upwards; this time, however, he lowered her towards his shaft, and was about to-

“Oh, fair Dipper, do not be tempted by the harlot! I beg of you, use my body in place of her graven image.” It was Pacifica, and Dipper slowed, before stopping, depositing Mabel with a quiet “hmph!”, and then picking up the other miniature girl.

Pacifica’s wings were already askew, and as Dipper moved her along the flat of his hand, he could see her standing to slide off the golden boyshorts, pulling them off of one leg while letting the elastic keep them held in place and out of the way.

Gently, Dipper reached under her arms, lifting her up to sit on the head of his cock. Pacifica squeaked with excitement, but after a few minutes of kisses and slight twists it was clear the stimulation was nice, but not going to be enough to cum.

Then he felt her wiggling get more intense, and saw a faint blue glow from on the shelf; Mabel was directing a corner of the beam’s light to fall on Pacifica, and she was slowly growing even as she rubbed and gryated on his cock.

It was only a few more seconds until Pacifica, still multiple feet shorter than when he had last seen her, slid the rest of the way down onto his erection. He groaned, and Pacifica whimpered in pleasure. Her rocking stopped, and then started again slowly, as Dipper showered her with kisses and licks all along her face and exposed collarbone.

Her tightness had Dipper’s every sensation heightened, and soon he could feel his shaft twitch.

“Pacifica, I’m cumming. Soon. Did you need to get off or-?”

He let the question hang in the air, but Pacifica just met his gaze, shook her head, and began to lift up and down on his cock as much as she was able to.

Dipper groaned, and then felt his balls clench as he pulsed into Pacifica. She gasped, whimpering and suddenly increasing her pace of rocking as he felt his cum fill her, and then begin to ooze along the sides and get squeezed out the bottom from the lack of room.

Dislodging Pacifica with a surprisingly-loud  _schlop-pop_ , but even as he put her aside to rest, there was a distinct “Ah- _hem_ …” from where his sister was standing with the turned-off crystal light. She had her hands on her hips again, but this time was unable to hide her smile behind an annoyed frown.

Grinning, Dipper lifted her up as well, her feet idly kicking as he moved her. However, instead of moving her to where he had serviced Pacifica, he just held her up next to his face.

“So, finally getting to scratch one off of the old sexy bucketlist, huh?”

Mabel just tilted her head in confusion, but her face flushed a deep red.

“Oh, you, uh, saw those hentai, huh?”

Dipper grinned. “It was kind; of hard  _not_ to, what with how you had full-screened it and just put it behind an unlocked screensaver. She chuckled, and then after a minute of laughter she began to rub herself along the raised edge of the pad of his finger.

_Back to the grindstone, I guess._

_Heh. ‘Grind’ stone._

Then he positioned her, and then gently rubbed her along the head of his slick and sticky shaft. Mabel whimpered appreciatively, and leaned forward to use her hands to help slide herself up and down.

He reached over, gently set her on his cock, and grabbed the crystal flashlight. As Mabel rubbed herself on his cockhead, Dipper bathed her in the glow, causing her to enlarge to approximately the size he figured Pacifica was.

The effect was dramatic; she grew much more suddenly in the direct instead of diffused light, and as soon as the light had faded, Mabel had practically fallen onto Dipper’s cock, impaled to the base with it.

“ _Uhohgod!”_ she moaned, little panted breaths as she rubbed her stomach. Dipper’s cock was large enough in comparison that there was a visible, if minor, distension, and he could feel the dull sensation of pressure on his cock as she did so.

Then there was a shuffle of movement as she got to her knees, but Dipper could see she was just adjusting to give herself better control over her movement. Then she began utilizing said control, as she raised up and down, slamming backwards against his cock as he rolled his threads up to meet her.

Then he felt Mabel clench, and she grabbed a pair of clumps of pbic hair to pull herself deeper onto Dipper as she came. Dipper shouted in pain and surprise, but the shock of the yank caused him to jolt, filling Mabel with a far smaller load than he had been able to give Pacifica. Flopped flat against his chest and oozing cum, Mabel crawled off of his dick and up his chest, to give her brother a slight kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks, brobro.”

He gently scooped Pacifica up, and snuggled both sweating and spent girls against his chest.

“Thanks you two. That was far more enjoyable than the last time I could literally hear my conscience.”

Mabel made a grossed-out face before laughing, and punching Dipper’s shoulder. “What, Ford’s thought-reader? I would hope so!”

Then she snuggled back up to him, and Dipper soon fell asleep, snuggled up to his two favorite girls in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on two prompts: From Adamnemo42: "Succubus Mabel tries to tempt Dipper to sinful incestuous sex, while Angel Pacifica tries to guide him to the path of righteous sex.", and from an Anon: "mabel has a giant kink and uses the size changing crystal to shrink herself."


	5. Union

Dipper was drowning. Again.

It was a nightmare he had experienced time and again, for almost the last year. A stormy sky was above, rumbling in part with the thunder of the clouds, but also somehow reflecting the sheer force of nature and destruction he knew instinctively was all below him. Flickering lights here and there, all in the water below, almost looked beautiful, if you ignored that it came from streetlights, from electronics and emergency generators, from cars and flashlights as they succumbed to the water and flickered out into darkness.

He waited. It always came, always, but it was unpredictable. Sometimes Dipper would sit, treading water until the roaring waves faded, until it became almost calm, the bright tinges of the dawn fading through the clouds, before the weight would snag his leg and drag him under. Other times he would be frantically swimming, keeping his head barely above the waves, only to be dragged under by the clawed grip seconds later. Tonight, he had just started to catch his breath when a boat veered close, a firefighter in a lifevest reaching for him, for his outstretched arm.

He felt his fingers brush the rescuers before the concrete and rebar mass snagged his jeans and pulled him beneath the water.

Looking down, he could see the shape of the neighborhood, the buildings almost intact despite being beneath a dozen feet of murky water. But Dipper looked, watched them, tried to absorb every detail before he looked forward, as he always did.

He wasn’t sure if he turned, or was twisted around, but then there it was; their home, where Mom and Dad had been that night the earth tore apart and the ocean reclaimed the land. He tried to shut his eyes, but the stinging of the salt and grit forced them open, and again he saw the door tilt inwards, revealing two forms floating motionless in the hall-

Dipper jolted forward, panting and coughing and retching. It felt like he was surfacing from the depths despite being just under a woolen comforter, and his lungs gasped and sucked for air.

He started, feeling a warm hand grasp his clammy one. Mabel was careful to avoid having their bracelets touch; she knew this nightmare well from what he had told her, each of the mornings that it occurred, and the one time she had tried to come with him through the link their bracelets made had been almost as bad as he felt in the dream itself.

“Dip, I’m here. I’m here.” She reached out, lacing her fingers through his. “I’m your little liferaft, all right? Just cling to me, and be safe.”

Dipper smiled despite the terror still racing through his chest, and he leaned into her shoulder. His voice was ragged, raw, as he spoke, muffled by the fabric.

“I was-I saw-The door opened and-”

“Shhh. I know. Just ;rest, Dip. I’m here.” He felt her hands come to pull him close, and he pulled the comforter aside, scooting along the bed until the source of his actual comfort had the side of her hips pressed to his side.

He felt her lips brush against his forehead, and smiled. The kisses drifted lower, along the side of his eye, tracing down his cheek, until he tilted his head slightly and met her lips on his. She paused, but then kissed him, shifting her hands to move the other hand to meet his while tilting her head.

Then the bracelets met, and he could hear and feel Mabel’s heat as she met his lips.

_-luckiest girl, and you are the perfect boy, and this is the perfect place. Huh, Dip?_

He hadn’t realized she had noticed, but she drew back her face, smiling at his sudden self-consciousness. “It’s ok; I feel…I dunno, more complete, when we have the link.”

She lifted up her hand, laced with his, and the bracelets clinked as they slid partway down their arms.  _It’s a good feeling._

He nodded, and lifted his head slightly to kiss her again, but Mabel pulled back slightly.

_What’s wrong?_

_I…Dip, I want to take the next steps, but…_

_…I’m scared._

_Me too._ His response caused her to tilt her head.

“Mabes, I, we, us, this; it’s new, it’s something I’ve never had before.”

 _Oh?_ Her eyebrow lifted.  _I seem to recall a certain redhead you were quite fond of._

Dipper flushed, but smiled.  _Wendy was nice, but Mabes, it was you. It was always you._

Do you remember [the music box](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DTR3YnKkQ6QU&t=NDc5ODdhYzExZTYzNzhjNWZiM2E4OGM1MTVkMDhjOTQ5MGFhZTQ3YSwwdmlLYmJkUw%3D%3D&b=t%3AZDbnMDtmcQhe2sqE7IPhoQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fpinewreaths.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F164439599010%2Funion&m=1)?

Her gaze faded, but then the familiar tune began tinkling through the connection. Dipper saw her expression brighten, and he grinned.

_I had hoped that would work! I wasn’t sure, but I figured since we managed to get images across, it might be possible to-_

_Oh c’mere, you big dork._

He hadn’t heard her call him that in ages, but the shock quickly faded as her lips crashed against his. She also shifted, moving her leg over to straddle him, one arm wrapped behind him. He felt her shift her hips along his crotch and the stiffness he had there as he moved up to rub his hands along her back, and she whimpered slightly. Dipper started in alarm.

_Mabes! I’m sorry, did I hurt you? I want to be careful, but with your scars I-_

_No, no, it wasn’t, hmmm, it wasn’t you._

Dipper could see Mabel furrow her brow, and her tongue stuck out a bit as she concentrated.

_What is it?_

_It’s me doing something that can’t be interrupted, she replied in exasperation. Just hush your butt and let’s see if I can get this to work._

Dipper did so, and after a moment there was a sensation of heat, of warmth he felt almost like what he felt in his own hardness. Almost, but not quite.

Mabel grinned, still with her eyes clenched in concentration, and she rocked and ground her hips against him slowly and forcefully. Simultaneously, the flicker of heat got notably warmer and more visceral.

He cracked open his eyes, meeting her expectant gaze. “Wow, Mabes, I didn’t even know you could-”

“I know!” she was almost squealing in excitement, something he had wished he could see more of the past few months.  _I had hoped it would work, but didn’t really have a way of knowing if I could get those feelings to transmit until we, well…_

 _Yeah._ He grinned.  _Speaking of which-_

He leaned in to meet Mabel’s mouth again, and this time she was voracious, roaming across his face with kisses, light smooches along his cheekbones and tiny keloid shrapnel scars, larger ones on his lips, tugging at them with an insistency that matched the raw hunger transferred across the link.

He ran a hand across her face, his hand running his remaining thumb along her cheekbone and drifting towards the top of her shirt. There, he was met with a single gentle hand.

_My back has been real sensitive when I take off my bra or sleepshirt the last few weeks. Could we…could we try it with me just taking off my sweats?_

Dipper grinned, and by way of answer he looped his thumb down and began to tug gently downwards. Mabel returned the grin, he face an expression of nervousness outweighed by her eagerness, and she stepped off of him to stand on the carpeted wood floor of the Shack’s attic. There, she quickly pulled down her sweats, and gave Dipper a mischievous grin.

Dipper chuckled when he saw the red and white-striped panties, with a winking flame emoji that said in bold letters ‘ _HOT STUFF_ ’.

Separate from the mental bond for the moment, his internal relief was all his own.  _You know, I didn’t know Mabes still had any fun clothes left. She lost most of her clothes in…in the quake, and even after the Grunkles let us live here, she’s mostly just gotten plain pastels or her grey sweatpants and sweatshirts._

Seeing Mabel do a little twirl as she slid the panties to the floor made Dipper glad he was wrong. She stepped back, the hem of her sleepshirt obscuring her nudity below, but he could feel her heat, nervousness, and excitement as the link reformed. Nudging his boxers slightly, Dipper revealed his shaft to the warm air of the attic, and Mabel lifted up slight, adjusting with her hands at her entrance, until she gingerly slid onto Dipper.

The change in sensation was immediate and electric. The bond, whether from a spike in concentration to some other factor, went from a whisper at the back of his mind to a roaring flood of feelings and emotions at the forefront of his own mind. There was a passing spike of pain, like a stab in his gut, but quickly replaced by an erotic warmth that had him feeling like his core was on fire.

Mabel must have felt it as well, as she arced her back, gasping, before slowly lifting up and descending carefully on his hardness.

Dipper felt both the sensation of her engulfing and surrounding him, but also the ghostly intensity of the feeling that was Mabel feeling him within her, filling her.

He whimpered himself, his eye watering slightly from the sheer intensity of the feelings, and he began to rock his hips in time with Mabel’s gentle movements.

With each passing motion, the crescendo of sensation appeared to increase exponentially. Soon, he could feel the goosebumps along Mabel’s bare legs mirrored in phantom sensations on his own, and most of all, he could feel-

_No. Later, save that for later._

Mabel looked up as he focused on shutting the thought aside.  _What is it?_

He smiled, and leaned forward to engulf her in another kiss.  _I’ll tell you after. Promise._

The explosion of sensation was soon bringing Dipper to his limit, and with a panting thrust of his hips, he began to come. The sensation was unlike anything he could have imagined, especially with having only mastrubated before. Not only was there the heavenly sensation of Mabel’s warm wetness surrounding him, but there was also the simultaneous feeling of being filled, of hot and sticky warmth flooding into him, sending him over the edge into orgasm.

The feedback from Mabel’s orgasm had Dipper clenching again as he came a second time, and Mabel likewise shivered and had a reactionary orgasm. Then they both were panting, clenching tightly to each other, the afterglow magnified from their connection like a halogen in a mirrored room.

Mabel leaned back, delivering a brief kiss on Dipper’s cheek.  _Thanks for being my first, Dipdop._

 _No, thank you Mabes. That was better than I could ever have imagined_.

“Even when you imagined with a particular redhead?” She giggled as Dipper attempted to bop her on the head with a pillow, as she rolled away to the side of the bed. He sat back, lowering the pillow and laughing, and Mabel joined him, giggling as she scooted back over and hugged her brother.

After a few moments of silence, Mabel nudged him with her head. “So, Dipper, what was it you wanted to tell me you felt?”

He swallowed, and then slowly held up his hand, turning it to show the three remaining fingers and the wrinkled scar where he had lost the other two.

“Well, I felt your hand, your fingers. It was different from the phantom limb tingles I feel sometimes; this was, I dunno, somehow more warm, more real.”

Mabel was solemn for a moment, nodding, before leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Well, I’m glad that was a good experience in more ways than we expected, huh?”

He nodded, before Dipper got a grin loaded with anticipatory and mischievous excitement.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Mabes.” He was careful to move his hand to sever the psychic bond, so as to avoid a premature spoiler.

“Oh?” She had perked up, her catlike curiosity in on full display.

Dipper held up a box, with a simple ribbon bow on the top, and a company name on the side she didn’t recognize. Pulling it apart, she was shocked to see a small hexagonal wooden box, smelling faintly of smoky cedar, and with an ornate shooting star and curved pine tree forming a loose circle on the box lid.

“Oh Dipper, it’s beautiful!” Mabel could hardly contain herself. “Where did you manage to-”

“Open it.” His grin was even wider as he nodded towards the box. She did so, and Mabel could see a tiny copper disc begin to turn, [as the music box began to play.](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DdmxQau49nZE&t=YzEzMmNmYTYxZjg1MzEwN2QwNjdiYjdmY2Y4NTg0ZjEzOWIyOWNiOCwwdmlLYmJkUw%3D%3D&b=t%3AZDbnMDtmcQhe2sqE7IPhoQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fpinewreaths.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F164439599010%2Funion&m=1)

As the notes filtered out, Dipper spoke. “I had looked all over, but nobody could replicate the older box, not close enough that it didn’t sound weird. But I found this one on a seller’s shop. The lid was customizable, and I thought it might be nice to make a start together with a fresh music box.”

She nodded, and leaned forward to kiss him. When her hand met his, the notes of the lost music box began to filter into their minds, harmonizing with the new, until the engraved box fell silent. A little while later, so did their shared memory of the song as it reached its end as well, as the Pines twins sat and hugged each other in the warm and quiet midnight hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Edward-or-Ford: "Set in the aftermath of the Gravity Scars AU, the twins make love for the first time, sharing such as moment more intimately than anyone had ever known (because they also held their "bracelets" together, they didn't just feel their own physical and emotional pleasure, but each other's as well)."


	6. An Unexpected Inversion

It wasn’t until hours after the show when Mabel finally brought it up again. Hours after the twins had left their tent and retired to the mansion, with Mabel now leaning back against the chair that Dipper sat in, running a hand up and down the leg of his black dress pants while he swirled his glass of ‘80 Cabernet Sauvignon, appreciating the heady aroma of the wine before taking a measured sip.

“Brother, dearest, we are in a rut. After all, how many times can you ravish me and I you, before it all becomes an echo of what we’ve done before?” Her headband glowed as she spoke, and a small cheese knife lifted from a nearby table, tumbling through  the air, as Dipper almost lazily lifted his hand. The broach at his neck glowed the same shade, and a small wooden coaster intervened, the cheese knife embedding into the wood.

Mabel smirked. “See what I mean? No risk of death, no threat or coercion left to surprise each-other with.”

Dipper took another sip. “I still fail to see why this means we need to be gallivanting off into other dimensions.” His eyes slowly lowered to meet hers. “After all, if you really want someone to ravish, go fetch Pacifica or that Gideon boy. I’m sure they’ll scream plenty before you have your fun, wipe their minds, and send them on their merry way.”

Pouting a little, Mabel crossed her arms, feeling a flare of irritation. “Pacifica just too… _emotional_. And Gideon, he’s terrified of me, to the point where I worry he’d wet himself before I could truly have any fun.” Her laugh was mirthless, and echoed oddly around the sparsely-furnished room.

“Besides, you know the dimension I’d want to visit. Not the one where everything was made out of corn, or that plane with the humanoid and magical precious gemstones-”

Dipper interrupted her with a peeved “I told you, we should have killed them, taken the stones, and sold them for a mint. A ruby or emerald the size of my fist would double our fortune in a single transaction.”

She shook her head. “Trust me, from what I saw, it would have been more trouble than its worth, even for a princely sum such as that.”

“In any case, the plane I’d like to visit again is that one we found with the copies of us? They were oh-so-kind enough to notify us of their existence when they let that demon rip a ragged hole in their dimension, so it’s only polite that we should want to drop by and introduce ourselves.”

He nodded, stroking his hairless chin. “Agreed.” A smile came to his face as he stood and felt Mabel give the back of his knee one last light brush of her lips before she stood.

“After all, I’m sure we can show them pain and pleasures they’ve only  _dreamed_ of until now.”

 

* * *

 

“You know the safeword, Mabes. Any time, you can just say ‘fistbump,’ and it’ll be over.”

He grinned. Mabel was on her knees on their bed in the Shack’s attic; their Grunkles had soon cottoned onto their attempts to hide their relationship, and had grudgingly allowed them to scoot the two twin size frames together to make a hodgepodge queen-sized bed against the far wall.

She currently had her arms tied behind her in a shibari bind, and similarly each leg had been tied in the same way, locking her into a modest kneeling position. While he had played with clip number and position before, tonight he just had a chained pair of nipple clamps hanging from Mabel’s breasts, with a three-ounce fishing weight dangling from the middle like a lead amulet.

He was buried in her ass, as deep as he could go, and he had a small riding crop with a pink heart on the end that he was mercilessly whipping and whacking across Mabel’s exposed buttocks. Sometimes punctuating the strokes of his cock with a whip, and sometimes not, Dipper had kept Mabel at the edge of an orgasm for what had probably been almost half an hour now. With each stroke she whimpered, wiggling to try and push back on him, to try and get the last little nudge of sensation she needed to put her over the long-awaited edge, but Dipper was careful to bring down the edge of her ecstasy just enough with the crop that it was maddening.

_Of course, I could always just say the safe word and we could finish the sexytimes and have that oh-so-delicious toe-curling Mabelgasm I want._

_But that would be admitting defeat, and nobody defeats Mabel._

She shook her head, and Dipper growled and pulled a little on her collar. Whimpering again, she felt another crest of orgasm approaching, and Dipper’s cock twitched within her, causing her to again curse her brother’s seemingly-bottomless supply of stamina.

However, this time the crop came too late, and instead of dampening her rising wave of pleasure, it instead merely accentuated the peak of it as she shuddered, gasping and groaning as she clenched reflexively.

Dipper chuckled. “Looks like I was a bit too late.” He leaned forward, running a hand roughly up to her breast to lean her backwards onto his cock. “But that leaves me sitting here unfulfilled. I wonder if I should peak you again and see how long it takes you to milk me dry.”

Gasping in her afterglow, Mabel gave him a little apologetic smile. “‘Fistbump,’ Dipper. Sorry, I don’t t know if I’ve got the electrolytes and stuff to go another round.” Immediately Dipper’s grasp on her breast softened to merely cupping it, and he began pulling at the knots at her arms and thighs.

Mabel wiggled her butt, feeling Dipper’s cock twitch in response. She grinned: “Hey Dipdop, don’t untie me just yet. You’ve been edging as long as me, and I’d hate for you to have to go to bed with blueballs or anything like that.”

Dipper began to pump, thrusting against her as he felt her muscles massaging him as she concentrated and squeezed. He leaned forward, until he was whispering in her ear. “So I take it you want me to  _cum_ in you?”

The words made her shiver and groan, nodding her head insistently, and he growled, biting the nape of her neck gently before thrusting one last time, and pulsing his seed into her. She gasped, rocking back as she growled a little purr of her own in return. After a few seconds, Dipper withdrew his half-flaccid cock, and began working quickly to untie his sister.

After a few minutes, Mabel was sitting surrounded by silky rope, and Dipper was checking over her arms and legs to make sure she hadn’t lost feeling, as well as checking the various spots the crop had swatted to make sure nothing needed ointment or further attention.

Working together, they managed to clean up the room remarkably quickly, and various vibrators, anal beads, lubes, handcuffs, straps, clamps, and other odds and ends made their way into their own appropriate drawers. Rope was coiled back up and secreted in a bin that slid back under the bed, and soon the only trace that the attic had been a sex dungeon a quarter-hour ago was the still-pervasive scent of sex.  _That_ was unavoidable, as the outside air was a bit too cold to leave the window open, and Dipper’s mild asthma forbade the use of a sprayable air freshener.

It was then, while they were sitting snuggling on the bed after putting a minimum of clothing back on, that they saw the flash of light. From outside, a blue-teal glow appeared in the direction of the parking lot, bright enough to light up the attic entirely before fading.

Crouching low, the twins snuck over to the window before peeking out. Mabel let out a little gasp of surprise as Dipper’s mouth fell open.

There, in the parking lot, were apparently Dipper and Mabel, albeit in different clothing.

Parking-lot-Dipper had a dark blue shirt, black slacks, and a short black cape that managed to look more dashing than either Pines twin had ever thought a cape could look. There was a large glowing broach at his neck, and Dipper was somewhat surprised to see that he had his hair purposefully done up with gel and partly slicked back, revealing and highlighting his identical birthmark rather than hiding it beneath bangs or a hat.

Parking-lot-Mabel was equally different. She was wearing a black leotard with dark stockings leading to heels taller than Mabel preferred wearing. Over her upper arms and chest was a blue poofy-sleeved and partially-sheer shirt, of a similar blue hue to parking-lot-Dipper’s shirt, and on her head was a headband with another jewel whose glow mostly faded as they watched.

Trying to stay calm, Dipper began talking out loud: partly to reassure Mabel, but also in large part to reassure himself.

“Okay, it’s okay; Grunkle Ford said other dimensions sometimes have duplicates. Hell, he said he almost got into a fistfight with one that had blue hair and a drinking problem, and another time he told me he found a copy of Bill, only smaller, bluer, and cowardly.”

He wrinkled his nose. “What is it with extradimensional duplication and turning things blue?”

Mabel squinted. “Hey, Dip, is it just me, or does that broach your lookalike has on look just like that one Gideon had during our first summer here?” He looked back over the dresser, and felt his mouth dry up.

Dipper nodded. “I think so. That means bad news if either of them spots-”

He stopped, blinking in confusion, and Mabel stifled a squeak of terror as Dipper lifted upwards, arms forced to his side as he pushed head-first through the attic window. Down in the parking lot, Dipper’s doppleganger was stroking the pendant and staring at Dipper’s paralyzed form. He was brought over to hover in front of the pair in the empty parking lot, three feet above the ground and surrounded by a hazy blue glow.

“Ah, glad you could join us,” said what Mabel had quickly named ‘Evil Dipper’ in her head. ‘Evil Mabel’ turned and cupped a hand to her mouth.

“Mabel, I know you’re up there as well. Don’t try to be a hero, and your brother won’t get hurt.” To punctuate her words, her own hairband began to glow, and a slender throwing knife slid up from a sheath on her garter, coming to tenderly stroke along Dipper’s cheek, leaving a thread-thin line of crimson against the skin.

Defeated, Mabel went down to the door of the Shack, opening it and stepping onto the porch. When she did so, Dipper was lowered so his toes barely brushed the gravel, and he floated behind the unfamiliar twins as they strode up to the steps of the Mystery Shack.

Evil Mabel picked a bit of moss off in one black-silk-gloved hand, and wrinkled her face in disgust before throwing it aside. Her counterpart cleared his throat and gave a silky and false smile.

“Now, we have an important matter to discuss, and it would be best if we did so in, ah, private. Shall we?” He gestured towards the open door, and Mabel took a long look at her imposter’s knife at her brother’s throat before she turned and strode inside.

There, Dipper was finally released from the spell entirely, as Evil Dipper instead focused and shut and latched all of the numerous locks on the front door. He stumbled and stood next to his sister by the fireplace, as his evil twin sat himself regally in Stan’s armchair, and Mabel’s counterpart perched on the chair arm and crossed her legs.

Dipper broke the silence with a note of frustration and annoyance in his voice, drowning out the portions of fear or anxiety he had at these newcomers.

“What the hell do you want?”

Evil Mabel put her hand to her mouth, gasping in false scandalization “Oh, how crude!” Her brother just grinned, and gestured to the two twins.

“Well, you, of course. But not for the reason you might think. You see, we need a bit of variety, as it were. It might be _shocking_ to you, but despite being siblings we share a bond that is far more, ah,  _intimate_.” He turned his head, and met his sister’s in a deep kiss, before breaking it to stare at their prisoners.

On a whim and trying to figure out a way to escape the situation, Mabel’s brain provided a very unexpected and unorthodox action to try: Without speaking a word, Mabel scooted over closer to her true brother, and reached a hand down the front of his pants.

Dipper flinched slightly before going still and giving her a little smile as he must have realized what she intended.

The effect on the other two was electric. Mabel wasn’t sure if they could have been more stunned if she had hit them over the heads with a frying pan, but it was clear that they had their opposites’ attentions.

“Oh, you mean intimate like  _this?”_ she asked in a saccharine innocent voice, giving Dipper’s cock long and firm strokes until he was visibly pushing against the material of his shorts.

‘Evil Dipper’ just nodded, and his sister was staring, her eyes filled with a hunger that felt very familiar to Mabel. “Well, I think we _might_ be able to help you there,” and as Dipper started to turn his head to protest, she leaned up as if to kiss his neck.

In a breathy whisper, she muttered “ _We just need to separate them from the amulets. After that, some good-old-fashioned Grunkle-Stan-style subterfuge or boxing will do the trick.”_ Then she withdrew, and at the same time withdrew her hand.

Dipper’s nefarious twin rose from his chair, and cleared his throat again. “Well, excellent then. Let’s be off, and the sooner we have concluded the reason for our trip, the sooner you no longer have to worry about our blackmail.”

He started to take a step towards Mabel, but Mabel’s doppleganger stopped him with an  outstretched hand. “No.” He turned slightly, his face drawn in annoyance as the Evil Mabel spoke. “We wanted to try something new, remember? If we just go to the default other partners, we might as well be at home.”

She strode over to Mabel, grabbing her hand in a white-knuckle grip. ‘See?” She nibbled a little at Mabel’s neck, and despite herself Mabel whimpered in excitement at the sensation.

Then, reluctantly, Mabel led the quartet up the stairs and to their bedroom. They had barely stepped foot inside when her reflection had started to nibble on her neck again, and Evil Dipper spoke up again.

“Could you do that somewhere else? It’s a little bit…distracting.” Mabel had her sweater already half-off, and she shrugged it all the way off before turning to her counterpart.

“Want to head downstairs? Grunkle Ford’s study in the basement has some decent carpeting, and even a few, um “artifacts”,” she said, emphasizing it with air quotes, “that he picked up on his travels.”

The other two twin’s eyes widened slightly. And their Dipper spoke in a voice of surprise. “All we ever found of our Great-Uncle Ford was a crater; evidently whatever he had been experimenting on was highly volatile, or flammable, or both.” He turned, running a finger along Dipper’s cheek and tracing his jaw idly as he said “After we are concluded here, I would be greatly interested in seeing what your Great-Uncle has managed to achieve rather than accidental self-immolation.”

She led her captor down the stairs, to the vending machine, and entered the code. Then they descended the elevator, to much awkward silence.

Mabel had no time to chit-chat, and apparently this reverse version of herself wasn’t much of a talker. Instead, her mind raced with hopeful anticipation.

_Please let it still be there, please let it still be there, please-_

She walked as fast as she dared over to the desk, and began opening drawers before finding the one she was looking for. Pulling out a smooth, satin-pinned wood box, she set it between her and her doppelganger.

“What’s this?” her counterpart demanded.

Mabel opened the box, revealing a bed of herbs, several items needed for occult spellcrafting, and what she was looking for: what looked almost like a letter ‘J’, except with a rounded and loosely-penish-shaped head bulge on both ends.

Her opposite eyes widened, and she pointed to the set of runes inscribed on the side. “What are those for? Is this some sort of sick trap?” Mabel just giggled.

Moving slowly, she removed the stone-carved dildo from the box, marvelling in its coolness, and brought it carefully near to her captor’s hairband. Evil Mabel started to pull away, but froze as the dildo began audibly vibrating as the original Mabel smiled widely.

“See? No batteries needed; this sucker just needs to be near a source of magical energy, and Mr. Vibration does the rest.”

At this point, the other Mabel was practically drooling. She made to reach for the Dildo, before Mabel tutted at her.

“Really? Like, I was willing to do all the work here, but if you wanna go solo, be my guest.”

Her counterpart narrowed her eyes, and then grinned darkly. She leaned back on the bed, her knife darting between her legs until a neat slit was opened, riding from the front of her mound all the way up the mound of her butt. The satin and spandex material tore easily, but she seemed to pay it no heed while waiting, staring at Mabel and waiting for her to act.

Mabel, meanwhile, had a finger rubbing along her own slit, trying to summon up enough juices to lubricate this enormous  _thing_ and slide the short part of the curved arm into her. There was a bit of wiggling, and then it almost slid into place, causing her to shiver as it rubbed against her clit with the cold and smooth granite.

Carefully stepping forward, Mabel lowered herself until her dildo protruding from her was level with Evil Mabel’s wet and eager slit.

Then she slid in, whimpering a little as the movement shifted the dildo and caused another wave of the sensations she had felt earlier.

_C’mon, come on you greedy-_

The other Mabel’s hairband began to glow, and on cue, just as before, it began to vibrate, causing both her and the original Mabel to shiver and whimper in arousal.

However, unlike before, it also notably moved of it’s own accord, and Mabel was only too ready to release it from her own grip from her lower lips; as if it was sucked in by a vacuum, the dildo buried itself as deeply as it could go, the rounded curve wrapping around the outside and keeping it from going any deeper as it anchored against her pubic bone.

“What. Did. You.  _Do?”_ her evil counterpart gasped, as she tried and failed to scrabble her hands at the dildo and remove it even as her legs twitched and spasmed from another small orgasmic crest of pleasure. Her headband glowed fiercely, but the dildo didn’t budge.

Mabel grinned. “Well, while it vibrates in the presence of magic, that’s not the _only_ thing it does.” She shrugged. “Get it wet, and it tries to go towards the nearest magical source. Not only that, but the vibration, you might have noticed, lasts a whole lot longer than just a minute when it’s wet.”

She strode over, finding a pair of full-arm intradimensional prison cuffs Ford had stowed from gods-know-where. Activating them, she managed to work them under her evil twin’s flailing arms, when she wasn’t trying to remove the source of vibrations that was now making her whole body clench and spasm every few minutes. Finally, with a satisfying  _click-clunk_ , the futuristic manacles latched shut.

After rooting around for a moment, Mabel grabbed a combination-locking carabiner from a backpack of hiking supplies, and proceeded to padlock the manacles to the disused radiator near where Mabel’s evil twin was sitting. Finally, and with a massive grin, Mabel slid off the headband.

The effect was immediate, and while the dildo was still vibrating, the magical force of attraction had ceased, and it slid partway out to hit the floor with a damp  _thunk._ Her former captor glared at her.

“That amulet holds dangerous, demoncially-gained power. You have no idea how to safely-”

Her protest was cut short as a roll of duct tape glowed blue, and quickly unwound a strip to stick across her mouth. Mabel took on a friendly tone as she addressed her one last time as the elevator doors opened.

“We’ll be back in a while. In the meantime, you’ve got almost another hour of charge on that there artifact, and enough mobility you can still use it for, heh, personal purposes. Why let it go to waste?”

Mabel shrugged and gave her a smile in return for her bloodthirsty glare back, but then the doors shut and all she could see was her own dull silver reflection.

Below her, in the study, there was the sound of attempted frantic movement to escape. This persisted for several minutes, before finally slowing and stopping.

Then the noise became one of something damp and vibrating sliding in and out of a very aroused body, and muted whimpers of pleasure.

 

* * *

 

Mabel met Dipper, the real Dipper, in the hallway as she came up. By way of demonstration, he held up an amulet on a leather strap, and gave her a grin. Mabel held up her headband, and they gently toasted each-other’s success with a gentle collision of the two amulets, making a gentle _tink_ as they impacted.

(A few miles away, one of the trees in the forest spontaneously uprooted itself by a dozen feet before falling crashing to the ground. Not a soul was nearby, so the noise it made and the bright blue glow that suffused it went unnoticed.)

“So, how did you outwit your counterpart?”

Dipper grinned, huffing and polishing his nails on his shirt. “Well, as it turns out, I give such good blowjobs that I can threaten to withhold them if he wouldn’t let me put a collar and lead on him.”

His twin’s mouth dropped open. “No way. So he got so hot and bothered, he basically let you get right up next to his amulet, and you did the old switcheroo?”

Dipper coughed, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, well, that was the  _plan_. In actuality, he noticed my attempt as I grabbed it while still on his neck, and it ended up being a battle of the sex toys: one that I won primarily due to knowing where everything was.”

He smirked. “You could say I left our guest a bit, um  _stuffed_.” Mabel snickered.

“Same here. Unless she possesses some superhuman strength of will, she’ll likely be indisposed for the next half-hour anyways.”

The brother and sister grinned at each other, and then saluted their victory with a well-deserved fistbump.

“So what next?” Mabel broke the silence, twirling the hairband in her hand. “What do we do with our would-be invading conquerors?”

Dipper smirked. “Oh, the Grunkles don’t come home from their away tournament until Monday. We’ve got lots of time to decide.”

 

* * *

 

Thirty-six hours after it had first opened and closed, the portal into the Gleeful manor reappeared, and an exhausted pair of twins stepped through. Gone was the carefully-coiffed hair, replaced instead by birdnests and bedhead. Gone was the aloof demeanor, replaced in this case by exhaustion and a sort of fuzzy general satisfied happiness. It wouldn’t last, of course, and anyone who had dared to intrude while they were in such disarray would most assuredly have the flesh stripped off of their bones, but  in the meantime Dipper and Mabel Gleeful just snuggled on the couch, enjoying each-other’s touch and closeness.

She wiggled a little in the loaned sweater, and hummed happily. “While it might be a bit before I recover, we are definitely putting that particular dimension down on the ‘Must Visit Again’ list.”

He just nodded, kissed his sister on the head, and basked in the memories of their brief but unforgettable weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by a combination of two prompts: "reverse mabel and dipper decide to spice up their sex lives and travel to another dimension to dominate their "goody goody" alternates. regular mabel and dipper are way kinkier and turn the tables on them", and "Either reverse dipper seducing classic dipper, or reverse mabel seducing classic mabel"


	7. Versatility

Despite his curiosity, Dipper still had to wait until Mabel had disappeared behind the vending machine and towards Grunkle Ford’s study before he could run upstairs to attic to see what was the jangly, surprisingly-heavy thing in the small bag his sister had given him.

The door to the attic turned out to be occupied, and he could hear Pacifica’s muttered “Find somewhere else, Dip” as some sort of jingling rattle sounded out from behind the muffling door. Dipper turned, and went into the bathroom instead.

He was in surprisingly good spirits. They had gone to the beach just earlier today, and while Mabel had been a bit surprised at his concerns he had voiced about their S&M adventures the last few weeks, her apology was heartfelt, and her attempt to dial it back to a level Dipper would actually enjoy seemed to be genuine for the last week or so.

Finally opening the black paper sack, Dipper pulled out what looked to be a mass of thumb-thick leather straps, looped through a set of pencil-thick steel rings. He turned it over in his hands a few times until he figured out how it was supposed to go on; the size was clearly little more than underwear, and there were a set of rings and straps in an orientation that ensured it would go on in a particular direction.

Shrugging off his clothes, Dipper shimmied off his shiny red-glittered boxer shorts, and slid on the leather and metal affair. The large, frontmost loop slid neatly over his half-awake shaft, and with a little coaxing it slipped over his balls as well. Then another ring, attached by a thick strap, slid over the cock again, nestling his scrotum between th;e two shiver-inducing loops of metal.

He did a little twirl, looking to see how it looked in the mirror. The leather straps on the back were woven in and back across, forming a series of neat parallel lines that barely covered his ass cheeks, and looped into metal rings on his hips and a larger ring directly in line with his anus.

Then Dipper peeked out, saw the attic door still shut, and crept down the stairs. He knew the Grunkles had left on their Alaskan fishing trip with Soos and Melody, and wouldn’t be back until the middle of next week, but he was still terrified some stranger would be sitting in the hallway and see him dressed in nothing but a set of BDSM leathers that managed to be even more revealing than just being naked would have been.

Making it down to the gift shop, Dipper did a final look around, before punching in the code and entering the secret hallway. He was about to shut it when he heard a sharp hissed whisper.

“Dipper! Wait for me!” Pacifica must have heard it from the stairway, and Dipper did so, holding it open until she slipped in and let it slam behind her.

In the low light afforded by a single green and dull bulb, Dipper’s mouth fell open a little. Pacifica was wearing similar leather straps and metal rings, but her design was almost more like a one-piece swimsuit. The rings perfectly revealed her nipples, and in her case the rings on her pelvis and butt actually served to hold apart a set of straps, framing her mound and slit, while crisscrossing along the sides until just underneath her breasts.

She saw his expression, and grinned self-consciously. “You like it?”

Dipper nodded. He had asked her that afternoon why she was up for being dominated for once, and had received a flirty peck on the cheek and “I’m versatile” by way of response before she had headed back to the mansion.

He saw her glance lower, and he could swe;ar he heard the leather creak as it tightened when his erection swelled to its fullest. Seemingly without thinking, Pacifica had reached out her hand, and gently ran her fingers over the smooth skin, before wrapping around it.

As he hummed approvingly, Dipper took a step towards her, and Pacifica gasped a little, both in surprise as her back impacted the wallpaper of the hallway, as well as arousal as Dipper’s own hand lowered, running along her slit. She whimpered, and Dipper leaned forward to kiss Pacifica briefly, before pulling away. She followed as he pulled away from the kiss, and started to take a  step back, saying “Maybe we shouldn’t-”

But he was cut off as Pacifica pushed against him, his own back hit the dusty wall, and she lifted a leg up and around his backside, rocking her hips so her exposed lips could grind along his length. Then she paused, adjusted the angle slightly, and sank fully against him with a sigh and shiver. Dipper groaned, and grabbed at her strap-crisscrossed ass to puller her as deeply onto him as he could, as she started to rock her hips and-

_Ding._

“A- _hem.”_

They both froze, and turned to see Mabel standing in the open elevator. She was wearing a full ankle to wrist catsuit, the black latex only interrupted by two holes for her nipples, and a oval opening fully revealing her shaved mound and everything below.

Mabel just pointed a single finger to her feet, and the two slaves for the evening sheepishly came to stand in the elevator on either side of their mistress. The elevator descended a floor, and then opened onto Grunkle Ford’s study.

Or what had  _been_ Ford’s study.

Now, it appeared to be a sea of pink, fluffy beanbag chairs. Dipper had honestly expected Mabel to have gone full-dungeonmaster, with metal cages and various torture devices, down in the abandoned portal room. Instead, the warm fake-candlelighting from the hundreds of electric flickering lights along the edge gave it a cozy feel. Ford’s desks, filing cabinets, and the mind-reader had all been shoved into a corner, and covered partially under a sheer pink sheet.

“Wow, Mabel, you really-” She glared at him, and Dipper’s vocalization quickly trailed off. Then she smiled.

“Yes, there were some modifications needed. Most importantly for tonight, though, is this one.” She walked to the center of the room to stand next to a wooden post about eight inches square. Looking closer, Dipper could see there were a pair of transparent blue dildos, both attached on opposite sides of the post.

Mabel gestured to the dildos. “Lubricate them; with your mouths, of course,” she cut in, causing Pacifica to whimper slightly in disappointment. “I’ll tell you when to proceed.” Then she went to sit back down, and started some EDM music on a little portable boombox while she sat and watched her two servants.

Dipper approached, kneeling on a soft hairy pink beanbag, and began to dutifully suck on his dildo. Pacifica did the same, and he could see her leaning close, audibly gagging on the length.

 _Heck, if she can do it, so can I!_ He leaned forward as well, filling his throat with the artificial cock. He gagged, tried to swallow, and coughed a little as he withdrew, taking a deep breath back in. This time, as Pacifica went down to the base in a manner he knew he couldn’t do twice, he was a little envious.

_Guess I’ll just have to work with Mabel on my gag reflex later._

Then Mabel snapped her fingers, and almost treasuring the word, simply said “Mount.”

He could hear Pacifica’s breath of excitement, and his own heart was fluttering with excitement as he carefully lowered it against his asshole. The silicone head pushed past the rings of muscle, the friction helped more than he had expected by the lubrication of his saliva, and soon he had slipped all the way in, slowly sinking fully onto the shaft.

Dipper could feel his own erection almost painfully dangling in the air, and he began to rock his hips back, coming up slightly before coming fully down onto the dildo. The tip just barely was short enough that it only brushed, teased his prostate, instead of impacting it hard enough to force an immediate orgasm, but it was enough to further heighten what was already making Dipper pant with desire.

Leaning over, he could see Pacifica was on all fours, her legs wrapped around the sides of the post and brushing against Dipper’s. She was whimpering a little, her impacts harder and faster on the post until Dipper could hear it rattling in the mounting. The vibrations of Pacifica’s energetic fucking was causing his own dildo to wiggle in response, and he began to moan with each new time it vibrated against him deep inside his bowels.

Pacifica growled something inaudible between whimpers, and sat up and onto her knees, wrapping her arms behind her to brace against the smooth-sanded post. Then she began to come down onto the dildo even harder than before, the clattering making Dipper worried she was going to knock the post down entirely. Still, he managed to time his own rockings, and soon he was matching Pacifica’s rhythm, slamming against the post as she did, the impact making her moan further.

Then Dipper could feel her hand grasping, desperately seeking, and she met and enmeshed her fingers with his as she shrieked into a open-mouthed shout of ecstasy; Dipper could feel her legs quivering against him, and it was making his cock twitch as his own orgasm built.

Suddenly, Mabel was in front of him, holding  small glass beaker from Ford’s benchtop. She had been sitting in the one uncovered tall-backed chair, a leg lazily draped over the arm as she mastrubated and watched brother and friend. Now, though, she held the glass beaker over DIpper’s cock, and the ice-cool glass caused him to wince and begin to pulse cum into the container.

Panting, Dipper leaned back after he spent himself, and he could still feel little gentle thumps as Pacifica continued to fuck and grind herself on her own dildo. Looking to his sister, Dipper cleared his throat questioningly. Mabel raised an eyebrow, but then said “You may speak.”

“Mistress, did you wish for me to drink my dirty cum now?” He looked at the beaker, an odd twinge of his cock at the thought of swallowing his own lukewarm seed again.

Instead, Mabel chuckled and held up the glass beaker. On the side, Dipper could see the white markings along the side, counting off 50mL increments until it hit the maximum of a quarter-liter.

“Not yet, my brobro, my slave.” She stood, giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek followed by a sharp slap to his butt through the leather straps

“Not yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from an Anon: for smutmas, could you please write a less angsty sequal to Submission?


	8. Between the Heartbeats

Like all of Grunkle Ford’s creations, the small and unassuming box in front of Dipper had dozens of corresponding journal pages, detailing all of the horrible secrets he had discovered with them, and the dangers such a reality-altering device could provide.

Dipper, however, was looking at the three-step instruction manual:

_“The CHRONOSTOPPER_

  1. _Press the Upper Button to STOP TIME!  
_
  2. _Press the Lower Button to RESUME TIME!  
_
  3. _NEVER PRESS THE MIDDLE BUTTON!!!”_



Cracking open the dark wood, the hinge squeaked slightly as he peeked inside. Sitting on the green velvet was a brown leather watchband with a lumpy, dull-silver watch face: it looked as if the glass facing had been replaced with a raised cap of silver, and instead of numbers engraved on the outside edge, there were a series of alchemical symbols and runes that Dipper didn’t recognize most of. The clear buttons to the top and bottom made the lack of a middle button slightly worrying, but Dipper carefully double-checked and confirmed that the diagram next to the instruction manual identified the two buttons as the ones that could be safely pressed.

Sliding the watch onto his wrist, Dipper was surprised to feel that the metal was already warm, despite having sit in the box all day. He glanced up at the icicle at the corner of the roof of the Mystery Shack outside the attic window, and as a drop of melting water dripped from the edge of it he pressed the upper button on the watch.

With a low humming bass noise filling his ears for a few seconds, Dipper noticed the sounds of the forest had disappeared. Looking up, he could see the shimmer of the raindrop as it hung, suspended in air.

“Neat,” he said to himself, as he reached out to cup the droplet. It wetted onto his hand, flowing normally as soon as it touched his skin, but when he shook it to dry off the hand, the minuscule speckled droplets this created froze in midair almost immediately after they were flung off of him.

Looking through the window, he could see Mabel was frozen mid-step, her sleeping bag for her slumber party under her arm as she was about to step into the Stanley Mobile. Dipper smiled as he remembered how excited she was about a slumber party with Pacifica, Grenda, and Candy over at the new and slightly-smaller Northwest Manor they had bought following Pacifica’s parent’s partial financial downfall.

Excited to show his sister, Dipper ran downstairs, only to find Grunkle Ford was in the doorway, waving goodbye to Mabel and Grunkle Stan. Try as he might, Dipper couldn’t squeeze past his Grunkle, and went to gently move his extended arm out of the way of bracing against the door frame.

As he did so, Dipper could feel a faint warmth and a lazy heartbeat through his Grunkle’s scarred wrists, and he even felt them shift a miniscule fraction of a degree before he was ducked under the shifted arm and out the door.

As he ran to the car, Dipper slowed, a faint hint of glimmering black sequin catching his eye out of the middle of Mabel’s sleeping bag roll.

_Weird. Mabel likes sequining everything she can reach, but black is quite possibly her least-favorite sequin color._

He came up behind his immobile twin, and gently pulled out the garment. It turned out to be a sheer bodysuit, one with sequins concealing a very minimal patch around where the nipples would be, as well as a thin strip along the groin. He felt a slight heat begin to build, despite himself.

_Come on Dip, hold it together. This is your sister, after all._

He remembered how Mabel had been talking about how she wanted to explore her “wild side” tonight with the girls, but he had assumed she’d meant loud music and makeovers, and not surprisingly-sexy lingerie.

 _Well, if Mabel is bringing this, I wonder what the others are going to be wearing?_ The slight heat built further, and Dipper could feel the strain against his jeans, blushing a little despite no-one being able to see him.  _I could always tag along, just to take a peek._

Then a little ingenious and aroused part of his brain piped up with a suggestion, and the rest of Dipper’s consciousness weighed the idea.

_I could always do more than peek, with this watch._

_Heck, I could start the party off with a bang._ He grinned to himself _._

_Time to go gather some supplies._

Mabel never noticed the sequined lingerie had shifted position within the hiding place in her sleeping bag, and she giggled with nervous anticipation as Grunkle Stan dropped her off in front of the new Northwest Manor.

Dipper had already walked ahead of the car, casing the manor for entry points, and finding an unlocked second-story window into a side room. Shimmying his way inside, Dipper ducked under the outstretched arm of a dusting maid, and made his way to one of the unoccupied guest bedrooms. Locking the door behind him, Dipper stood at the edge of the curtains, and hit the lower button, resuming the flow of time.

After a few minutes of waiting, he could see Grunkle Stan pull up, and an excited Mabel nearly exploded out of the car and into the mansion. He could distantly hear Pacifica and Grenda’s voices, and re-engaged the watch’s chronal effect. Dipper shrieked a little when opening the door brought him face-to-face with a puzzled housemaid, but he was able to crouch well under her arms, and left the door closed but unlocked behind him.

Downstairs, Pacifica was peeking out of a bedroom, only her head showing, and Mabel’s sleeping bag was lying near the doorway. His sister was in mid-motion of running towards the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom, her sequined leotard in-hand.

_Wow. Wasting no time, I see._

He had a sudden urge to find a hiding spot within the bathroom to watch Mabel change, but shook his head to clear it, and instead crouched in a closet, resuming time after he had shut the door behind him.

Then Dipper waited, first five minutes, then ten. His sister didn’t re-emerge, so feeling a bit of confused anxiety, Dipper froze time and peeked in the bathroom. It was empty, but on the far side he could see a door leading into the bedroom, as well as another door leading to the bedroom on the opposite side.

 _Good, so they’re all in there. Time to execute the plan_.

Dipper exited the front door, and left a small gift-wrapped box on the doorstep. Then he pressed the doorbell, still amazed to see the light flare up over the span of almost a full second, and released, entering the house and re-entering his hiding spot in the closet.

Despite being the one to press the button, Dipper jumped slightly when the loud booming gongs of the doorbell rang. A butler went to open the door, and Dipper breathed a silent sigh of relief for having the foresight to address it to Pacifica, and to leave the note itself free of any overtly dirty suggestions.

The butler read over the note, and brought it t the bedroom. With three sharp raps, Pacifica’s face reappeared.

“What is it? We’re currently indisposed, and I thought I left standing orders not to-”

“Milady, there is a package for you.”

Even through the closet door slits, Dipper could see Pacifica’s eyes light up, and she quickly snatched the package before slamming the door shut.

Carefully, Dipper counted to sixty in his head, and activated the watch. Creeping out of the closet, he opened the bedroom door and slipped inside.

Inside, his jaw dropped. Pacifica and Mabel were already on the bed, Mabel in her leotard and Pacifica in a corset and matching thong. Candy was curled up cross-legged in another chair wearing a plain black bra and panties, while Grenda was in boyshorts and a sports bra, her fist in mid-air to slam against the button sitting on the bed and surrounded by wrapping paper.

_Looks like I got here just in time._

It didn’t do anything, in reality. Dipper had merely stolen the biggest button he could find in Grunkle Ford’s workshop, mounted it to an empty metal fusebox that had been lying around, and affixing the all-important label:

_“For an Instant Orgasm™, press button.”_

Locating another closet with a slatted door he could peek through, Dipper made sure he had a clear view of the button on the bed, and unpaused time.

Grenda’s fist came down as Pacifica and Mabel squealed in surprise. The button went  _click-click,_ and then Dipper stopped time.

Coming up behind Grenda, he reached to gently pull down the boyshorts, and felt along her slit. She wasn’t aroused yet, but even as he did so his touch helped restore some partial reactivity to the area, as he felt a muscle twitch in response to his hand’s presence.

 _Hmm. Need a certain something here_. Dipper scanned the room, before finding Pacifica’s dresser cabinet. He pulled open the top drawer, feeling a stab of accomplishment at guessing the right one on the first try, and then a flush of aroused heat as he began nudging her folded and multitoned pairs of panties aside, looking, searching.

Then he found it; next to a trio of innocuous vibrators and a notably-less-innocuous dildo, and buried well beneath the first several layers of fabric, was a small plastic squirt-bottle. Dipper grabbed the lube, putting a dollop onto his fingers and massaged along his own shaft as well as Grenda’s slit, as he came up from behind and gently eased into her.

_Grenda, prepare for your ‘Instant’ Orgasm, courtesy of your hardworking and sped-up friend’s twin brother._

He hadn’t expected Grenda to be the first one to press the button, but happily obliged her, as he rocked back and forth into her, his arms bracing against her hips. Still bent over partially over the bed, her hand only a few inches above the button she had hit, he could feel her pussy warm and dampen, and muscle twitches from an incoming orgasm soon began to shift and clench all around his own shaft.

Quickly, Dipper withdrew, replacing the boyshorts in their original position, and retreating to the closet. His cock twitched, but the cold air soon tamed his erection from being on the brink of cumming himself.

Then he resumed time.

“WHOOO _AAA!_ ” Grenda thundered, falling to one knee and panting. The other three were frozen in surprise, and there was just the sound of Grenda’s panting and groans; Dipper could see her own hand was rubbing along her mound, trying to ease out any remaining spasms of pleasure from the wave of ecstasy.

“So, uh, I take it that it worked?” asked Mabel, and Grenda merely nodded.

“My turn next!” Pacifica had leaned forward, her stomach on her bed as she pressed the button.

_Click-click._

As Dipper froze time and emerged from the closet, something in the back of his mind tried to kick him to get his attention; that thought, however, was banished in favor of ogling the full sight before him, of Pacifica in her teal thong, the matching teal brocade of the corset serving to frame her pale skin in between.

Dipper slid the back of the panties aside, and ran a drop of the lube between her already-slightly-aroused lips.

However, her legs were in the way. Before he moved them, Dipper made sure to mentally capture what position they had been in, before widening them apart so he could lean forward. His cock pressed against her slit for a moment, slipped past as it failed to get the right angle, and then after a moment of manual adjustment he could feel warmth all around his hardness as he made his way within her.

This time, Dipper was almost doing pushups on the bed. It was surreal to see his exertions visibly pushing in the mattress with his hands, but seeing the glass of water just a few inches away seemingly unperturbed by having no mattress underneath it for multiple seconds in a row.

Still, his effort was paying off; while working up a sweat had taken the edge off of his own orgasm, he could feel a clench and a brief sensation of fluid on his cock as he withdrew from Pacifica.

Then, as before, Dipper retreated to the closet, thanking his lucky stars that no-one was close enough to notice the closet was starting to smell vaguely of pussy.

“Ahah _ahgodyesfuck,”_  whimpered Pacifica as her legs, moved to their correct position after Dipper had returned to the closet and nearly forgotten to put them back, clenched together and she bit the nearest pillow, moaning loudly into it.

Mabel appeared to be stunned, her eyes now swiveling from staring at Grenda to staring at Pacifica on the bed next to her. While Grenda had slowly started to stand upright, she didn’t appear to be reaching for another orgasm just yet.

Candy, this time, bit her lip and stretched out from where she was seated in the swivel chair, and Mabel helped by holding out the box with the button on it so she was able to press it without standing up.

_Click-click._

This time, as Dipper left the closet, he tried to ensure he perfectly remembered Candy’s position. Pacifica’s legs had been easier, but the way Candy was sitting meant that he would have to do some serious rearranging in order to help fulfill the orgasmic promise of the button.

However, Dipper had another idea, and instead lifted her up and forward a few feet, before releasing her to let her hang there. Sitting carefully in the swivel chair, Dipper pulled Candy by her hips back to him, the rest of her torso still frozen in position like she was stuck in taffy.

Another dollop of lube, and Dipper slid Candy down onto his shaft. This time he lifted her up and down from where he had his hands on her hips, slamming down onto his cock with each downstroke, feeling her muscles clench and then spasm around his cock once, then twice.

_Two-for-one Orgasm Button special: step right up, come one, come all._

However, Dipper had been paying too much attention to Candy’s reaction and remembering her pose: before he could stop, he felt his own cock clench in preparation for orgasm.

Hurriedly lifting Candy off of him, Dipper moved her aside just in time to see a set of white spurting ropes of cum launch into the air, stopping like weird abstract shimmering art after getting just a few inches away from their bodies.

Carefully, Dipper placed Candy back down, and scanned the bedroom until he found a box of tissues. Carefully, Dipper netted the errant cum gobbets with tissues, careful not to move too fast and rip the thin material from friction. After he had fished out all of his orgasm after-effects, Dipper double-checked that he had put Candy in the right position, hastily caught a pea-sized leftover gobbet that would have struck her right on her chin, and made his way past cooks and butlers to throw out the bundle of tissues in the mansion’s dumpster out back.

After returning to the closet, he stopped to catch his own breath completely before resuming time.

“ _Yiyiyiyi-aaah-aaaaah_ mmm.” The swivel chair creaked as Candy came, wiggling in the chair and unconsciously grinding her hips against the featureless artificial leather.

Dipper swallowed, but then his breath caught in his throat as he saw Mabel reaching for the button.

He paused time before her hand even reached it.

_What am I doing? Sex with her friends is one thing, but this is my sister we’re talking about._

The same voice of horny inventiveness that came to life earlier failed to reappear, but instead his inner Grunkle Stan rumbled to life, the mental construction chuckling at him.

_Kid, what’s with the long face?_

_I-my sister, she-I don’t know if I should give her the orgasm, or just like use one of Pacifica’s vibrators._ He swallowed _. It was all fine and good in the theoretical stage, but once she pressed the button, if nothing happens and they open the box up, then it’s all over_.

He could almost imagine the annoyed look he would have gotten from Stan.  _Well, she’s pressing the button, so clearly she wants what you’re giving out. Besides, nobody will ever know it’s you, and so it’s just win-win-win!_

Dipper nodded.  _Plus, if her diary entries are to be believed, I think she might have these feelings for me too._

_Well, I hope I don’t disappoint._

He pulled back to the closet, resuming time just long enough to hear the fateful noise.

 _Click-click_.

Then Dipper emerged, and pulled Mabel upright. While she was notably wet already, Dipper added some lube just in case, and while standing behind her, his hands on her breasts, he slid up into her from behind, feeling his cock being scratched by a line of sequins that somehow only managed to further arouse him. Normally Dipper had a half-hour recharge before he could perform again after cumming, but this time the presence of his sister as being the target of his affections seemed to give him newfound stamina.

He could already feel a twinge from within Mabel, then another, but before he could withdraw there was a slight  _beep_ and an automated voice.

_“Daily fusion charge expended. Temporal suspension now unavailable. Returning to realtime.”_

Dipper could only groan in fear and then arousal and ecstasy as he came, as Mabel came as well, milking his cock as he pulsed and filled her with his cum. Their cries mingled and filled the bedroom as the timestop expired.

Then he leaned back, Mabel’s hands searching, finding his, and then freezing in surprise and alarm at actually feeling a person there. All at once, Dipper could feel the eyes of Pacifica, Grenda, and Candy on him.

_Oh shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from eziocauthon89: Dipper finds a watch that can stop time, and just in time for his and Mabel's sleepover at Pacifica's place...

**Author's Note:**

> From 'adamnemo42': Spectrum Mabels decide to throw a real rainbow party.


End file.
